No Place for a Hero
by MexMarco
Summary: One year after People v. Misham, Phoenix has reopened his law offices and recovered his attorney badge. Now both he and Apollo must prepare to do battle with the future, two murders and a court system that still refuses to change. Major spoilers! FINAL
1. Justice Never Sleeps

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** Hey there! First and foremost, I want to thank you for taking the time to read this. If you like it, I have nothing but gratitude, and if you don't? Well, I still want to say thanks for letting me borrow some of your precious time.

What is this? In so many words, it's Phoenix Wright noir. At its core it remains the same: quirky characters, puns and goofiness; however, at some point the fan and writer in me wanted to see where those things could be taken if you added a bit of introspection and morality issues into the mix. I know a lot of people like to make tragedy, drama, pain and overall unpleasantness the goal of their work, and I have nothing against them, but I'm personally trying to pursue other creative avenues. So why not make those things the means, a vehicle to further the plot, instead of it being the whole point?

This is the first time I have truly proposed myself, as a personal goal, to do a fanfic project of this kind. Those who know me probably think I'm beyond all of this to begin with; I don't know if they are correct, but I know I'll hate myself for not trying.

Please rate, review and enjoy! I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

_This ain't no place for no hero,_

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place For A Hero**

**Chapter 1 - Justice Never Sleeps**

_May 5th_, 04:03 AM__

_Phoenix Wright's Apartment_

One humid night during May, Phoenix Wright woke up to the sounds of Death. He didn't immediately recognize its terrifying beat, confusing it instead with the digitized beeping of his old cellphone, the one he always charged yet only used to receive calls from certain clients. The ex-attorney, now ex-poker player and attorney once more –thanks to his retaking the bar exam- told Apollo Justice, his junior partner in the reborn Wright & Co. Law Offices, that this phone in particular was meant to be used for a special practice.

He almost treasured it, and there was a reason for this.

The truth was that it had been the same old blue phone he used during his first tenure as an attorney. It was a memento as much as it was a legitimate link to his past, and only his acquaintances from those days knew of this number, thanks to his persistent behest.

Thus, knowing the importance of this call right away, Nick wasted no time in rolling to the side of the bed and reaching out to answer it. The instant that the line connected, he was greeted by a loud, shrieking female voice piercing his ears, right through his brain.

"_NIIIIIIIICK!"_

Needless to say, he got a hold of his bearings right away.

"Augh, gosh! Okay! You don't have to be so loud. It's…" Nick glanced at the night table from whence he had picked up the phone. A digital alarm clock stood there, giving the time next to a half-empty glass of water. "-right, it's four in the morning. I can hear you just fine."

Nick remembered the nature of the phone and lost his patience for introductions.

"Who the heck is this anyhow?" he asked with slight annoyance.

A female voice with a big drawl blasted through the other side of the line.

"Whut! Ya gonna pretend y'don't know me now that I need ya the most! Yer the worst of the worst, worst than them flies standing on cow manure! I hate yer guts!"

The attorney smiled weakly and put the pieces together very fast.

"Lotta Hart? The photographer?"

"Reckgiven! Anyone else ya know packin' this much southern charm, and straight outta the Heartland!"

Lotta, the freelance photojournalist with the big mouth and the big afro, had been both an enemy and an ally to Phoenix; however, their friendship –or whatever semblance of it their relationship was- had rooted itself deep when the journalist gave Nick the numerous leads that led to Maya Fey's second murder acquittal. Following that, particularly during the case of People v. Engarde, she had been as much of an opportunist and a troublemaker as before. It was back to square one, only this time, you knew what you were in for.

"Wow. It's been so long." said Nick finally. His tone was wistful.

"W-wait a minute."

"Yeah?"

Lotta became nervous. "…am I speaking with Phoenix Wright, the attorney?"

Nick chuckled. "As of… what? A year almost? Yep. Why?"

"Er… I dunno, you sound a heck of a lot older now."

"And you sound just the same! But I guess you're right." Nick smiled. "Ha ha ha. I'm a daddy now, you see."

There was an awkward silence plaguing the line.

"Whut! Did you and the topknot girl finally get together!"

Usually, any mention of Maya either made Nick mad or it gave him a terrible spell of the blues; however, only those closest to him at that point in time knew of this. Lotta remained oblivious of the nerve she had just struck.

"Nah. That didn't come through. It's a long story." the attorney finally said, immediately doing a swerve in the conversation. "So how did you get this number?"

"Chief Gumshoe, pal!"

Phoenix always felt like breaking into a belly laugh whenever he heard that Dick Gumshoe was, in fact, the Chief of Police after so many years of dedicated, passionate albeit often clumsy service. He supposed such a good guy deserved his big break after so many years of hardships and noodles.

By this time, footfalls were heard outside Phoenix's room. He figured it was Trucy, his adoptive daughter, getting up this early in the morning just to check up on her dad.

"I see." said Phoenix to keep himself from laughing too much or too hard. He also watched the volume of his voice, something he figured he had forgotten to do. "So, what can I do for you, Lotta? Need someone to bust you out? Which celebrity's house did you break into this time?" he joked.

It was then that a series of sobs and sniffles came through the line.

"Yer heartless, Phoenix Wright! Yer a monster!"

Phoenix finally realized this was serious, as a man who was aware of the kind of cases that would usually come knocking on his door. Nonetheless, he tried not to jump to conclusions. You can't be a homicide magnet forever, right?

"I'm sorry, Lotta. I didn't mean to upset you. Now tell me," he said in a voice so caring that a man can only find it once he has become responsible for another's life and well-being. "what's wrong?"

Lotta, paying homage to her name, regained her composure and finally stated the purpose of her call: she had been arrested under suspicion of murder.

"But I swear on the grave of my granddaddy that I didn't do nothin'!"

Nick almost wanted to put the call on hold and mutter a dry "Of course". He had been inexplicably drawn to murder cases ever since the beginning of his career, both due to his capacity to get clients acquitted –sometimes through sheer bluffing- and his oath to protect those who were in their most helpless moments. His whole practice record had consisted of murders almost entirely; even that one case he took, defending a famous master thief under suspicion of grand larceny, had been all a ruse to cover up for a murder.

Phoenix Wright undoubtedly had the experience of a veteran, but regardless, it always struck a nerve when fate put the life of those close to him on his hands.

After promising Lotta he'd personally take her case, Nick immediately asked her to stop talking on the phone and only give him the information he explicitly requested. After writing down data like the number of her detention cell, full name and case number, he scheduled the time when he'd come down to the detention center that day and discuss Lotta's defense at length.

"Keep that chin up, Lotta. I'm getting you an acquittal, no matter what. I believe in you."

Lotta chuckled and sobbed for the last time.

"Heh! Ya sure got better at inspiring a gal now. I'll be waitin'."

"Alright. But be tough now." he added. "Questioning gets pretty thorough in murder cases."

"Reckon course! I'm weaselin' my way out of every one of their questions like a champ! Just watch me!"

"-wait! That's not what I'm asking you to-"

Lotta's voice was abruptly replaced by a busy signal. Phoenix felt like burying his face on his hands.

"Sheesh. This is going to be so much trouble." he told himself.

The bedroom door finally opened. Nick had forgotten entirely about Trucy, who had decided to peer in only after her father had finished with his call. Even with her messy auburn locks, as well as a clearly fatigued face, she was able to express sincere concern for him.

"Is everything okay, Daddy?" she asked, tugging at the sleeves of her pajamas. "And don't lie to me like you did last time. If you do, I'll turn you into a newt!"

"I'll get better, anyway." Phoenix chimed.

Of course Phoenix wouldn't lie to his daughter, due in no small measure to the fact that he simply couldn't. Since she carried the Gramarye's gift, almost no twitch or involuntary reaction escaped her. It was just like her half-brother Apollo Justice, a young man who up until this point she only knew as a friend.

The attorney stood up from his bed and slid the rest of the covers off. Trucy had been the only one to ever see him in such an average state, wearing only a pair of shorts, a wrinkled tanktop and socks. He had gotten so used to it that it didn't matter.

Nick briefly explained to her what had been discussed in that prior phone call, making it as succinct as possible as he started looking for something all over his room.

"It'll be alright. Go back to sleep, honey." was the last thing he told her before finally sitting back on the mattress with his laptop in tow. Trucy obeyed like a good daughter, not before taking a second to stare into that newly found fire in her father's dark eyes, the blaze that erupted since he had regained his right to wear the attorney badge.

Nick coughed and began to type away. The first order of business was to write Lotta Hart's letter of representation.


	2. Wright in the Morning

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** Phoenix and Trucy! It's always difficult for me to write them into scenes without turning this into a crackfic, but I guess that's what makes them great characters to play with. Plus, now we get to see Apollo Justice join the cast! Who else we'll be seeing? Hmm…

Things remain relatively light-hearted and in tone with the series for now. We'll be sticking to the basics a bit more, but expect some surprises soon!

Please rate, review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it. 

_This ain't no place for no hero,_

_This ain't no place for no better man,_

_This ain't_ no _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place For A Hero**

**Chapter 2 – Wright in the Morning**

_May 5th, 07:13 AM_

_Phoenix Wright's Apartment_

Working for Phoenix Wright the first year of Apollo Justice's practice had been, in the young attorney's own words, trippy. Far from having to attend associate meetings, sucking up to senior partners in the office and playing golf with the "boys", Apollo's daily routine in what was then the Anything Agency consisted of pursuing panty-snatchers, going to court against rock stars and promoting his services along with "the best magic show in town".

Things had toned down and acquired a semblance of normalcy after the agency reopened as a law firm, but that didn't mean the Wright family had stopped being the weirdest people Apollo had ever met. This meant a lot, considering his track record of clients, allies and enemies up to that point.

Now, all three members of the firm were gathered in the family's kitchen and living room like every other morning. Trucy was in charge of making breakfast that day, so Phoenix used the available time he had to continue preparing his next case; Apollo, on the other hand, drowsily pretended to read the newspaper, keeping a close eye on the funnies section.

"Hey. They robbed the Great City Bank!"

"Old news, 'Pollo." Nick smiled as he continued staring at his LCD screen. "That was like two or three days ago, I think? They haven't found the money or those responsible yet."

Apollo arched an eyebrow.

"Didn't you take a grand larceny case once, Mr. Wright?"

"Yup. Good times." Phoenix smiled, taking a sip from his cup of coffee. "Sometimes I wonder how Ron and Desiree are doing."

Apollo shrugged and continued skimming through the news.

However, in spite of being so tired, there is something he noticed all the time about his boss. Even with his blue suit, tie and vest on, typing away at a laptop and reading earnestly, there was something in Apollo's eye that made Phoenix Wright look like the goofiest man in town, something like a spiky haired Bob Hope. It's as if he had never ditched that strange hobo getup he wore for the longest time.

"Huh? Why are you staring at me?" asked a worried Phoenix. He rubbed at his mouth. "Did I get coffee or something else on my face?"

Apollo almost did a spittake, drinking too big a sip from his own cup of joe and burning his tongue a little.

"Gack! N-no, sir! You didn't!" Apollo said, trying to not make his lie that obvious. In the process, he placed his cup of coffee on top of the newspaper and almost ruined it. He couldn't help but sigh now. "Sorry. I didn't mean to stare."

Phoenix was about to excuse Apollo, but then one of his cheerful, careless laughs slipped out.

"I get it!" Phoenix claimed, dropping his hands at each side of his laptop. "You're still mad that I get to wear a vest also."

Apollo could feel his face hanging off his jaw.

"Oh, no. Not this again…"

Phoenix raised his voice, reclined all the way back and faced the kitchen. "You heard that Trucy?"

The young magician promptly poked her head out, looking towards the dining table at the corner of the living room.

"Wow, seriousy! Sheesh. Like, get over it, Apollo." Trucy made a face and continued. "Daddy gets to wear sweeter duds than you because he's your boss, remember? Otherwise, how will you look the part of his underling!"

"I… -what?"

"Hahaha. Don't worry about it, Apollo. One day, you'll get to wear a suit of your own!" proclaimed Phoenix, tugging at the lapels of his jacket.

It was strange how all of this had begun. When the bar reapproved Phoenix's license and he got to wear his old suit again, Trucy gave him a dark blue vest to go with it as a present. It was of a rather nice fabric –perhaps velvet-, and it did a great job of giving an accent and flair to Nick's thin personage.

Apollo's mistake that day had been to plainly ask if the senior lawyer would be wearing a vest, too. From that day on, both father and daughter egged him on about it as part of their repertoire of wacky inside jokes.

Accustomed to this kind of bizarre interaction, the younger attorney decided to roll with it this time.

"And when will I get to wear my suit, boss?" Apollo asked drolly as he continued reading the paper.

"I don't know." answered Nick in a bizarrely thoughtful manner. Then he said as naturally as if he were explaining basic math to a little kid. "Probably when I get to buy a hat."

Apollo grunted in exasperation and pulled the newspaper over his face, once again giving up trying to understand this family.

* * *

><p><em>May 5th, 07:38 AM<em>

_Outside Phoenix's Apartment_

After a hearty breakfast and one final cup of coffee for the road, Wright & Co. left the apartment and began to head downstairs for the street. Along the way, Phoenix briefed Trucy and Apollo about his relationship with Lotta Hart, making sure to tell his daughter, first of all, that he had not found her a mommy.

"So we'll be going downtown to the detention center, to meet with the client." explained Phoenix. "Remember she's a bit of a nutball, and kind of greedy, really loud and seriously hot-tempered… oh! She can also be a real coward, a cheat and an opportunist. But!" he waggled his pointer finger in the air. "She'd never go so far as to commit murder. Understood?"

"Sir! Yes, sir!" Trucy beamed, saluting.

"Er… whatever you say." Apollo listened on. It just felt awkward to postulate a client's innocence by pointing out all her faults like that.

_So as long as Mr. Wright doesn't make his case based on gossip_, he thought.

Actually, who was he kidding? Phoenix Wright was an ace attorney for a reason. It's just that sometimes he bothered so little to act the part that he confused his apprentice. Nonetheless, the best time of the day was about to come for Apollo.

"Alright. Enough fooling around." said Phoenix as he unbuttoned his suit, made a turn around the apartment complex and came back pushing a bicycle. Even if all he did was smile less and tense his shoulders a little bit, Phoenix Wright now looked every bit the courtroom legend Apollo remembered from his childhood. "We'll meet at the usual spot."

"Gotcha!" answered Apollo enthusiastically.

"Don't hit any parked cars now!" Trucy joked, waving good bye at her father.

And thus they decided to see Nick off before leaving themselves, but just before the senior attorney was about to make the turn and disappear from the sight of the two youngsters, he shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Whoever gets there last pays for dinner!"

Trucy and Apollo turned white and looked at each other. When Phoenix issued that challenge, it wasn't a joke. He actually _meant_ it.

So as usual, the neighbors looked outside at the loud kid with the spiky hair and the magician girl, both getting on their bike, taking off and making a run for it like they had just committed a crime.

**Next chapter: Phoenix & Co. in the detention center! See you this Sunday at around 3PM PST!**


	3. One Year Later

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** And now we get to see a real taste of things! To say this chapter will make or break the fic for you readers might be kind of dramatic, but seeing that this is the first one to delve into that foreign territory I mentioned in the notes of the first chapter, there's a ring of truth to it. Or don't you think so? Either way, I hope you find it interesting and/or entertaining.

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it. 

_This ain't no place for no hero,_

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ no _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place For A Hero**

**Chapter 3 – One Year Later  
><strong>

_May 5th, 08:05 AM_

_Outside Detention Center_

When all was said and done, Phoenix had somehow managed to beat Trucy and Apollo in their impromptu race by a margin of several minutes, proving that sometimes youth is no substitute for experience –or knowledge of sneaky shortcuts-.

Both youngsters made it to the entrance of the detention center, a somewhat garish white building, with the taste of defeat in their mouths. At least Trucy had enjoyed the ride, being as happy-go-lucky as she was, but she had not pedaled herself to an early, sweaty, swollen-footed death like Apollo had.

And Phoenix Wright just couldn't let this pass up.

"Hey there, Apollo! I didn't know you were so out of shape. You should feel bad that such a grandpa beat you in a bike race."

Apollo gasped for breath and handed the bike's lock to Trucy without saying a word, making it clear he was not getting anywhere near that thing for a long, long time. He almost literally dragged his feet to where Phoenix was.

"Auh… detour…" he took one deep breath in and tried to make sense of his own words. "We tried to take a detour… but we wound up riding by the Kitakis' new business. We had no choice… but to stop."

Trucy finished putting the lock on the bike and laughed herself silly as she joined the conversation.

"Apollo here got scared of Little Plum, like usual! She looked at him and kind of put on this Clint Eastwood face." she tried to imitate that expression, instead appearing to be constipated like one famous New York detective. "She asked him if he thought their cakes were no good or somethin'."

"S-she's scary!" tried to justify Apollo. "You just have some kind of permanent death wish."

Phoenix shook his head and laughed.

"Ha ha ha! Really now. Don't tell me Plum made you buy their goods."

To confirm the story, Apollo reached into his pocket and showed Nick a cupcake, neatly wrapped and tied with a ribbon. The senior lawyer showed no hesitation in taking it from his apprentice's hands.

"Huh." Nick held the treat closer and squinted. "You think Lotta likes nuts?"

Apollo felt the twin spikes of his hair getting soggy from all his sweating as well as from his misery. He couldn't believe this.

"Were you even listening…?" he pleaded in vain.

"The client's needs come before everything else, Mr. Justice. And I'm pretty sure Lotta hasn't had anything to eat since her arrest late last night."

Nick pocketed the treat and put on one of his best lawyer smiles.

"Really." he continued. "Did I ever tell you about that time they sent me off from the detention center just to feed a cat?"

_Whatever_, simply thought Apollo, letting his thin shoulders dangle almost clean off their sockets. At least Nick had bothered to teach him a useful lesson for once. Not that Trucy cared, by the sounds of her laughter.

* * *

><p><em>May 5th, 08:22 AM<em>

_Detention Center_

_Waiting Hall_

After going through the formalities and security measures needed to enter the facilities, all visitors were asked to wait in the halls until a room was prepped, the suspect taken out of questioning and a letter of representation presented, if the visitor was a defense attorney. Of these conditions, it seemed that only the second remained to be fulfilled.

Trucy, Phoenix and Apollo sat in one of these halls, waiting. It wasn't the most welcoming place of all for obvious reasons, but it was clear that the current Ministry of Justice had spent a great deal of its budget to make the facilities at least appear humane, with white pristine walls and directions printed onto shining metal plates. This was not a prison, after all. Heck, if you concentrated hard enough, you could believe you were in a hospital. It was only missing the scent of chemicals.

Apollo wasn't precisely bored at this rate, being a professional of his trade, but he nonetheless saw the opportunity to speak seriously with his boss. He took it.

"Say, Mr. Wright?"

Nick faced towards Apollo.

"How's the litigation in favor of the Jurist System going?"

"Not letting the news get ahead of you, huh?" Nick smiled. "There's a positive attitude for an attorney."

Apollo only chuckled this time, looking at his mentor straight in the eye. Phoenix happily complied and took the question seriously as a result.

"From what my sources tell me? It's not really getting anywhere right now." Nick explained. "The test trial we did was a knockout for the people. I mean, you stopped the bad guy from manipulating a court of law into making a terrible mistake. But on the other hand, it was a nightmare for both the board of attorneys and the chief prosecutor's office to handle. Their main argument is that the people can be swayed, but the law cannot."

Trucy quirked an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"They don't trust jurists." Apollo realized out loud. "They don't want to let the people take part in trials. I suppose it's fear that the jurists will be easily impressionable."

"And said argument stands really strong." continued Phoenix. "Do you know why?"

Apollo could feel he was close to figuring that one out based solely on how Phoenix was carrying the conversation.

"Because the guy responsible for all this is a showman and a big cheat in the first place." Phoenix said. "It's how the old-timers feel."

"What! They won't keep their fingers off of that, will they!" protested Apollo, his eyes nearly bugging out.

Trucy almost jumped out of her seat. "But Dad! All of that stuff was cleared up a year ago, thanks to Apollo! We were all tricked into playing Mr. Gavin's hand, just like he wanted from the beginning… I mean, if I had known what he was handing me back then, or who he was…"

In one second, Phoenix Wright turned back into a father.

"No, Trucy. You were only a child then. You couldn't have known." he said, reaching out to squeeze his daughter's hand before returning to his explanation. "But that was a trial to establish Vera's innocence. It wasn't an appeal for my disbarment, remember?

Phoenix breathed a sigh and shrugged. What else was there to do at that point?

"I presented fabricated evidence and that's still on record." he looked at the pin on his lapel. "They sure reminded me of that before I finally got my badge back. For all everyone that matters knows, I masterminded everything for seven long years, just to get back at Kristoph and present solid enough grounds for me to retake the bar exam and recover my badge."

"And the Jurist System test trial was just a springboard for that, according to them." Apollo furrowed his brow and stated coldly: "I'm sorry but that's retarded."

Phoenix frowned. "Language, Apollo."

The young attorney immediately apologized for such an angry slip of the tongue and continued.

"You knew there was no other way to expose Mr. Gavin. You needed something beyond the current scope of the law to save Vera."

"-what did the judge call it? Common sense? I'd say that was pretty good." Phoenix grinned. "He must've rehearsed that line a dozen times."

"Mr. Wright, that's enough with the modesty." Apollo spat, unable to see bear how hard Phoenix was beating himself. "Sure. It was thanks to Mr. Edgeworth that you were introduced to the Jurist System and figured out it was the next step to take. You stepped up and took full responsibility because of this. Those board folks are all full of it for trying to keep the screws on you like that. You ran everything and took such a huge gamble because you believed in it… and you believed in me."

Suddenly brimming with gratitude for this man right in the middle of such a confused, despondent rant, Apollo grew quiet. Trucy continued to listen, feeling powerless and perhaps even ignorant in the face of all this. She could only do that at this rate.

"That I did." Phoenix said softly. "But I'm afraid I actually had an interest in all this; it just played into the agenda of some very important people."

Trucy and Apollo were, for the lack of a better word, puzzled. Meanwhile, Nick's cell phone began to ring. He looked at the screen, frowned, thumbed a series of keys and slid it back into his pocket.

"I promise we'll talk about this later, Apollo. You're about to take a phone call."

Before Apollo could ask what he meant, what was going on… _anything_, Phoenix's prediction became true. Seconds later, his phone was ringing. The ID was unknown.

"What? Aren't you going to answer?" asked Phoenix, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

Apollo finally stood up and walked away to take the call, not before eyeballing Nick in bewilderment a few more times.

Now father and daughter were sitting alone. A misty-eyed Trucy reached out to squeeze Phoenix's hand.

"Daddy?"

Phoenix looked at her and completely melted, shedding all that anxiety welling up within him. He only had eyes for his little girl now.

"Yeah?"

"Don't ever talk about Vera's trial and that Jurist System ever again, okay? Not until you and Polly and Mr. Edgeworth make things totally right." Trucy held Nick's hand against her cheek. "Promise?"

Phoenix did so, lifting his daughter's silk hat to place a kiss on top of her head. The moment of tenderness was then completely broken by the attorney wrinkling his nose, almost to the point it looked like it was about to cave into itself.

"Honey," he began whispering. "don't get mad at papa, but either you're washing your hair with poop or those rabbits you keep in your hat left you a little magic trick."

"Awwwwww! Dang it!"

By the time Apollo came back, Trucy had half her face buried into her hat while Phoenix tried not to laugh like an idiot.

Phoenix could cleanly read his junior partner without the need of any sacred relics or special bracelets. "Don't ask. What about your call?"

"Right!" Apollo cast his confusion aside and gave his report. "It was a client, the wife of some guy called Ned Munny. Did you tell her to call me?"

Nick jerked a thumb at the door he was waiting to open all this time. "I already got my hands full with Lotta, don't I?"

Apollo made no attempts to hide his gratitude once again, offering a slight bow of his head. "It's another murder case. They took him in early this morning too. The lady says her husband, a security guard, was apparently framed… and she seemed pretty convinced of it."

"She can't be. It's too early to tell." Phoenix pondered.

"The husband must've fed her that." Apollo guessed. "Or she knows something."

"Are you putting her through the motions then?"

When Phoenix used that figure of speech, it meant his partner's power to _perceive_ the truth.

"Yeah." Apollo answered after a moment's thought. "I won't feel comfortable taking this case unless I talk to her first. Are you coming, Trucy?"

"Sure! But let's pick up my spare hat first." Trucy stuck out her tongue at her father.

"Alright." replied a puzzled Apollo. "We'll be excusing ourselves then."

"Sure." Phoenix immediately interrupted himself. "-oh, Apollo. About the trial a year ago?"

The younger attorney felt Trucy squeezing tight around his arm.

"Yeah?"

"It doesn't matter what happened. You still did in two days what I couldn't in seven years." Phoenix smiled. "I'm your mentor right now, but I don't think it'll be that way forever."

Apollo laughed embarrassedly. "Thanks, sir. I sure hope the person assigned to defend the Jurist System in those top secret hearings pulls through, for all of us and for your hard work."

"Yeah. I think he will."

Apollo's eyes twitched briefly, but he said nothing. Instead he recovered his smile, said goodbye once more and headed out of the building. Trucy was close on his trail.

"Your dad… he's a great man, Trucy." he told his assistant just as cryptically as Phoenix used to talk.

The young magician shook her head and hugged herself a little. She wasn't sure if she liked her dad going back to the attorney life anymore, not if it meant dealing with secrets, hidden agendas and what she could only describe as a deep, devouring sadness.

* * *

><p><em>May 5th, 08:35 AM<em>

_Detention Center_

_Visitor's Room A_

Phoenix was admitted into the visitor's room a couple minutes later. He was then greeted by a Lotta Hart that, for all he knew, had aged but only a couple days. Time stood still around her, and how she sat behind the protective glass with her arms crossed only heightened the illusion. She had the opposite to say about her attorney, however.

"Wow. Look at you, lawyer boy!" she laughed, her afro jiggling as she did so. "Ya look like a man."

"What?" Phoenix smirked. "Did I look like a girl before?"

"Nah. But I guess you fill that suit pretty good now."

"I've been working out."

The jokes and the greetings went back and forth as Phoenix got everything ready to discuss the case, particularly that tool vital for any attorney worth his bones: the court record. He took every piece of paper and document out of his suitcase, neatly arranging it as he saw necessary. Lotta was taken aback by how much he had changed in this regard also.

"You do things a heck of a lot different now, Nicky." she mused. "You were more like the messy kinda guy."

"I'm not allowed to be messy nowadays. I've got to set an example for my daughter and my junior partner, you know?" he joked in return.

"Huh. So you don't have any assistants anymore."

Phoenix stopped dead in his tracks. Maya as a topic was sneaking into conversations far too much for his own –and therefore anyone's- good.

"Nope. But I got my girlfriend with me here, fortunately."

"Wha-?"

The attorney took the final item out of his briefcase: an eerie green stone that somewhat resembled the shape of the number nine. It took Lotta a second to recognize it, and upon doing so she broke into a nervous sweat.

"And what do you know?" Phoenix finally relaxed in his chair, rolling Maya Fey's magatama in his hand and playing with it like a toy. "She's also my ticket to the truth."

* * *

><p><strong>Next chapter: Apollo meets his new client's wife. Will he take the case?<strong>

**Be kind and review, please!**


	4. Framed

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** Trucy and Apollo as a team. Don't you love them? I know I do; in fact, I love just about every "team" in the Ace Attorney series save for the original one, Nick and Maya. Why? Don't ask me. I guess that, personally, Maya focused more on being goofy than being useful in any sort of way. Kay, Gumshoe, Franziska, Pearls and Ema just seemed better partners in terms of helping the plot move along.

Boy, was that a rant! So what do we have here? This is the chapter where the story will split into two branches: the Phoenix investigation and the Apollo investigation. Some interaction will remain, but I've found out I can get to develop both characters much more comfortably this way, without having them upstage each other and brawl for the spotlight.

Also, this way I don't have to pretend to answer who's the better lead of the two. It's a win-win situation, if you ask me!

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

_This ain't no place for no hero,_

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ no _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place For A Hero**

**Chapter 4 – Framed**

_May 5th, 09:10 AM_

_The Munny Family's Apartment_

Apollo Justice was grateful for the outcome of the trial of Vera Misham for one simple reason, besides the obvious acquittal of his client: people took him more seriously, even if he tagged along with a teenage magician dressed like one of the Gramaryes. His face was in all the law journals and even some newspapers, so while it didn't make him an instant celebrity, it became less and less common to have his clients and other people treat him like a young kid playing Sherlock Holmes with his lady friend.

Therefore, when he came down to meet with Ahnette, his client's wife, she welcomed both him and Trucy with a warm and heartfelt greeting. Her attentions were all so wonderful and flattering that it raised the question if she indeed respected Apollo that much, or if she was simply being naturally kind and welcoming.

He ignored that Ahnette Munny was raised with a set of good old traditional values, so in spite of being a little younger than Phoenix, she radiated a mature, motherly aura that made everyone feel welcome wherever they were. She would have been the perfect, consummate housewife if it hadn't been for her desire to help pay the bills by working at an Italian restaurant, first as a waitress and later as maitre'd.

She had first met her husband Ned almost by dumb luck, through an acquaintance they never knew they had in common. Later on, after three years of dating, they decided to marry and form a family. Ever since then, in spite of their monetary troubles and Ahnette's apparent troubles with bearing children, they led a peaceful life, full of love and appreciation for all those small yet important things that couldn't be missed.

Their story –or Ahnette's side- was all like an urban fairy tale for Trucy and Apollo. For a second, they almost forgot that they were there to provide legal defense for a murder indictment. So once they had finished their proper introductions, the real discussion began.

"Once again I'm sorry for having you come down here, Mr. Justice." Ahnette apologized. "I guess it's a long ways from your office."

Apollo smiled like an embarrassed child, even blushing a little. "No! Please, no. Don't worry about it, ma'am. If we wrote our cell numbers down in our flyers, it's for a reason. We simply feel that, to help people, sometimes we have to reach out a little first. We are on the move! It's kind of a… policy in our firm?"

"Yup!" Trucy added. "And we totally love the exercise anyways."

Apollo cleared his throat and rotated the bracelet on his wrist. "That aside, I need to ask you a couple questions, Mrs. Munny, and I need you to answer truthfully." then he added, always mindful of his tone, "If you lie to me, I'll know."

Ahnette went a little wide-eyed, holding a hand to her chest. She wasn't expecting such a young attorney to be this forward. "O-okay."

The first topic they covered was Mr. Munny himself. According to his wife, he was a security guard working with an agency that commissioned him to different spots, from concerts to supermarkets, conventions and businesses of many kinds. For one reason or another however, he could never get the position of chief or anything remotely close to a raise.

"I see." Apollo rubbed at his chin. "Does he keep any firearms at home?"

Ahnette curled her fingers on her lap. Apollo kept the twitch in mind.

"What if he does? You don't mean my husband used it to kill! He wouldn't, ever!" she answered indignantly.

"Relax, Mrs. Ahnette." Trucy said in a soothing voice. "Trust in Polly and answer his question, okay?"

"If you don't answer me, the police will get that information anyway. And they will withhold it from us, Mr. Munny's defense team, until the trial is underway." clarified Apollo, repeating his question. "Does he keep a gun at home?"

"No."

Apollo relaxed a little. Ahnette gave nothing away to make her words a lie, although things weren't totally in the clear either. For all the attorney knew, Ned might have been keeping a piece stashed in secret.

"Alright." Apollo proceeded. "You didn't tell me over the phone that Mr. Munny was innocent; instead, you insisted on telling me that he had been framed, a very different perspective on things altogether. Is there any reason why?"

"Y-yeah." Ahnette sighed to steady her breath. "The detective who came for Ned said they had found his fingerprints on a gun used to kill someone… I don't know who. It was some Italian name."

Damn it, was the only thought racing through Apollo's mind. You could always try and build a solid case against circumstantial evidence, like the fact that Ned Munny was a security guard with access to firearms, but if his prints were indeed on a murder weapon, such evidence turned around and became watertight. But the attorney wasn't about to let this poor, dedicated and loving woman hear something so terrible, not when he had yet to hear her husband's side of the story.

He also had a couple more questions to go. Trucy led the interrogation this time, proving that she was becoming a fast learner.

"Was your hubby with you last night?"

"Yeah." Ahnette nodded. "He comes back late every night because of work, but he was on time, not even a minute late when he was already home."

"And the murder he's accused of," Apollo proceeded. "did it take place last night?"

"Apparently. But they still arrested him and booked him in as a suspect, or whatever they call it."

Apollo took a mental note of this. If this was indeed the truth, there was maybe a fighting chance after all. The client's alibi was simple: according to his wife, he made it home on time and remained with her the rest of the night of the murder. If it could be established that the murder took place either too far off Ned Munny's course, or at a time where he was confirmed to not have been there at all, the case tipped entirely in his favor.

Filled with renewed vigor, the attorney puffed out his chest a little and nodded at Trucy.

"Okay. I'll take your husband's case, Mrs. Munny!"

Apollo's confidence rubbed off on Ahnette, causing her eyes to shine with a new light. "R-really! Thank you! Thank you so much!"

"We'll get your man off da hook!" Trucy beamed, doing a little guts pose. "Ya dig!"

Ahnette walked over to them and gave both attorney and magician a warm, tight hug and a trembling handshake. All the love she had for her husband had been professed in those brief moments, filling both youngsters with a wonderful feeling of accomplishment. Apollo became convinced he was fighting for the good guys, motivating him to present a stellar defense tomorrow.

To lend their hand to the weak, helpless and powerless; that was the oath any defense attorney with any sense of self-worth made to himself and the community, and Apollo Justice was no different. Instantly, he was reminded why he had chosen the trials and tribulations of this difficult but satisfying career. However, he had not forgotten that the toughest times for an attorney and their client often yielded the most important lessons of all.

Brave like a knight in shining armor, Apollo braced himself and walked head-on into his next case. It was time for Justice!

**Next chapter: Whole Lotta Hart, coming very soon!**


	5. Whole Lotta Hart

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** Writing a psyche-lock sequence was an interesting challenge. I mean, how are you supposed to react when someone's surrounded by loud, creepy chains and locks? There's constant mention of how it causes physical strain on the bearer of the magatama, so I tried to include a bit of that as well.

How are you guys liking things thus far? I think at this moment, you can say we're through setting the main plot exposition for the continuity of this fic. For anything else, you will have to be on the lookout for little bits and details scattered through it, so keep those eyes open.

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

_This ain't no place for no hero,_

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place For A Hero**

**Chapter 5 – Whole Lotta Hart**

_May 5th, 09:05 AM_

_Detention Center_

_Visitor's Room A_

"Alright. So it says here that you're suspected of murdering one Alicia Peabody, another freelance photographer. Is that a coincidence?"

The interview with Lotta Hart continued. Phoenix Wright remained calm and in control, having matured to the point where his old self, that loud, panicky underdog, was no more than a funny memory. The way he conducted himself now resembled rival and best friend Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth's modus operandi, except that the furrowed brow and stone cold wit were replaced by a playfully snide demeanor. Surely he wasn't one of the bad guys, but he nonetheless enjoyed pulling one over his friends every once in a while.

"Naw." Lotta chuckled nervously and scratched at her afro. "We go way, way back! Like five or so years ago, we joined forces t' uncover the nasty secrets of Polly Holton's slumber party! We were like the queens of the barn! The celebrity gossip barn, I mean, which is like the Ritz, I guess? Anyhow, we stayed in touch since then, and we've been kinna friends but kinna rivals too!"

Phoenix raised his eyebrows momentarily.

"Oh? Rivals?" he repeated.

"Reckon course! Boy, the stories I gotta tell ya! Ya wouldn't believe-WAIT! WHAT THE HECK! NO!" Lotta yelled all of a sudden, stumbling over her own words in a verbal spittake. "What kinna gosh darned trick ya tryin' to pull on me, makin' me look all suspicious! I'mma sue ya for that, city boy!"

"Ha ha ha! Relax now. But it's a good thing that you realize the power of your own testimony now." Nick rubbed at his jawline and eyed his court record. "I'm telling you this because the prosecution will use that against you in court, I'm sure. And Edgeworth will be the one to do it, so go figure."

"Whew. Really?" Lotta grinned instantaneously. Her relief was as obvious as the nose right in the middle of her face. "That fancy-schmancy guy with the frilly clothes? Boy, he's one of the good guys! I knew my horoscope was right when it said I'd get my lucky break."

_Lucky enough to face a homicide conviction?_ thought the attorney.

"-It's a cravat." corrected Phoenix. "And I would save my breath if I were you. Edgeworth's job is to prove you guilty, and he's really good at it. He's going to run this trial, the judge and the jurists into the ground until he makes sure there are no questions left unanswered at the end, so I hope you don't have any skeletons in your closet!"

"Aw, doody…" the photojournalist lamented, resting her chin on her hands and closing her eyes shut, as if trying to lock a memory away. "Alice, you dummy. Look at what ya put me through even when yer gone."

Then came a sharp jolt that blurred Nick's sight for a second. He couldn't see it clearly yet, but the magatama was starting to react. It was time to dig a little deeper.

"You and the victim…" he began wearily rubbing at his eyes. "I take it you were just rivals and not enemies?"

"Nah! We only competed for stories, but it was always an honest, clean contest, y'know?" Lotta laughed, remembering the good old times. "-save for that time she filled the gas tank of my scooter with maple syrup, or when I put krazy glue on the viewfinder of her camera so it'd stick to her face." she shrugged like she had just gotten over a simple sibling quarrel. "But we never hit it off with any mean or evil intent. Just the desire to compete I guess? Aside from that, it had been all sunshine and rainbows with her, I tell ya!"

One single word rolled out of Nick's tongue.

"Right."

"Right!"

But Lotta was not seeing what Phoenix was. She did not see the terrifying, apprehensive chains and the sturdy locks surrounding her, creating a prison in that dark limbo only Nick had access to thanks to Maya's jewel. These chains and locks formed Psyche-Locks, abstract manifestations of a person's secrets; it was Nick's responsibility to unlock them if he wanted a serious chance at defending his client.

Working solely on instinct and a seemingly solid conjecture, he pressed forward.

"Lotta, when was the last time that you saw Alice?"

The fluffy haired girl was completely caught off guard, reeling backwards and losing some of her wind in the process. Yet she didn't answer. She grit her teeth and stared into Phoenix's eyes with a mixture of defiance and misery.

_Damn it. I don't like the looks of this._

"Did you see her last night, the night she was murdered?"

"Oof!"

The chains of the Psyche-Locks rattled and shook. Lotta attempted to roll with the punches and bluff her way out of this predicament.

"N-Nah. What's the matter with you!"

"Where were you then?"

"At the movies."

"With whom?"

"A friend."

"Alice?"

"Yeah-I MEAN NO. I meant I was at home, watching movies. With my hamster."

Lotta crossed her arms triumphantly and nodded.

Phoenix grinned. "I'm afraid that won't cut it."

"Gawk! D-dangit!"

"Y'know, boyfriends make better accomplices, Lotta. I suppose you don't have one."

Lotta's jaw hung limp.

"Wow. Ya really know how to hit where it hurts the most..."

Nick chuckled one last time and dropped the games.

"You saw Alice the night she was murdered, didn't you? In fact, I'm willing to wager you were at her house. That's where her body was found, right?"

Lotta exhaled and very slowly hung her head back. Millions of crystal particles that once formed phantom chain-links and locks exploded into dust.

"You know, you have to believe in your attorney first and foremost." Nick clarified. "You have to cooperate with me if you want me to get you an acquittal."

"It's not that easy, Nick." Lotta whispered, lifting her eyes to meet her attorney's.

Of course it wasn't easy. Most of the Psyche-Locks remained steadfast and in place, refusing to give out.

"What did you talk about with Alice that night?"

Lotta didn't stir this time. Those chains temporarily signaled the end of the road.

"Then I guess we don't have anything else to discuss for the time being." Nick said plainly as he began to pick up all of his things, along with a fresh set of notes. "The reports say they didn't find a murder weapon, but if the prosecution finds you have a motive for murder, that also means Edgeworth is going to have a case against you. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

Lotta's eyes were moist. She nodded slowly.

"Then, please be ready to give me those answers when I drop by later." Phoenix pressed a hand against the glass dividing the visitor's room in half. "I believe in you, Lotta, but I need to know the whole truth if I'm going to represent you in court."

"Awright." Lotta mumbled, exhausted.

"Oh! By the way." Phoenix dropped the tense topic like a football. He also dropped a cupcake right on a tray that connected both sides of the room. "I thought I might bring you something to eat."

"Whoa. Th-thanks." Lotta said as she instinctively darted towards the treat. She was hungry.

"Make sure you don't die or anything in here, okay? You still owe me that money you used to pay for that camera, way back in the Nickel Samurai case."

Lotta quirked an eyebrow as she held her food. She was eating with such joy that some crumbs were already on her face.

"Wait! I know! You mean you haven't forgotten after all these years?"

By now, Nick was in the process of leaving. He turned around as he was about to put his hand on the doorknob. There was a goofy grin on his face, going almost from ear to ear.

"Nope! That was what, nine years ago? Anyway. I'm totally putting it on your tab too, but don't worry. I take credit cards!"

Lotta just stood there with her half-eaten cupcake, now wondering if it was poisoned or laced with something.

**Next chapter: Miles Edgeworth. **'**nuff said.**


	6. A Crime, A Riddle

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** Playing Ace Attorney Investigations gives you more of that whodunit feel than a common Ace Attorney case, I believe! I think that's why this chapter was very enjoyable to write and revise, since it felt so dynamic and fluid like a real interaction taking place. You also get to see three more characters thrown into the mix of this strange experiment!

Edgeworth is definitely a fan favorite, but Ema Skye has a place in my heart as my favorite sidekick in the series. I was about to say most lovable, but that obviously is the title for Pearl Fey. Still, Ema provided me with the biggest laughs, the biggest help and the biggest emotional investment during Rise from the Ashes. I almost felt bad for her turning so grumpy in Apollo Justice, but I forgive Capcom as long as they keep her silly pout.

=3=

I can only hope I got the character down properly, although that obviously goes for all of them.

And what is that at the end of the chapter? I'll just say we're close to finding out there's really no place for a hero.

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>This ain't no place for no hero,<em>

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no_ _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place For A Hero**

**Chapter 6 – A Crime, A Riddle  
><strong>

_May 5th, 10:13 AM_

_Alice Peabody's Apartment_

_Living Room_

Alice Peabody's apartment was a perfect legacy of the love she had for her work. Various famous photographs from all over the world hung on every wall in simple but elegant black frames, and what was meant to be a spare bedroom wound up turned into a studio. Overall, the place more than easily helped in making its owner look the part of the avid photographer, although her portfolio primarily consisted of shots of public figures caught with their pants down, both figuratively and literally.

But now? Now she was nowhere to be seen. Only the white outline of her dead body was left square in the middle of the living room, surrounded by the broken glass of the coffee table it had fallen on. It was like a chalk drawing made by children in the midst of a tragedy, a memory as sharp as a recently developed photograph.

Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth was all too familiar with this sight, circling it like a buzzard as he attempted to take every detail of the crime scene in. A finger tapped monotonously against his rigid jaw.

"There's detectives that get paid to do this, Mr. Edgeworth! Did you know that?"

The prosecutor heard the chipper female voice and turned slowly, deliberately. This way, he had just enough time to drag his mind out of work to put on a weak smile for his assistant.

"Good afternoon, Kay." he said in a clean, polite tone.

Kay Faraday held her hands behind her and grinned.

Edgeworth couldn't help but wonder how –or when- she had mature so much as an investigator while retaining that invigorating, pure aura of hers. The woman who inherited the noble Yatagarasu's will sported more reserved clothing now, opting to wear a three piece suit with a pink shirt instead of her loud getup of old. As a sign of devotion to her father's memory, however, she wore a strip of his scarf around her neck as well as the golden Yatagarasu pin on her lapel.

Edgeworth, on the other hand, hadn't undergone such a drastic change. Sure. He had grown his hair into a tidy short ponytail held by a dark blue ribbon, and now wore his cravat tucked in; nevertheless, his trademark wine red suit persisted, the lapels of which were also black now, a throwback to his apprenticeship under Manfred Von Karma. Facially he had not changed at all, although many said his sardonic smile, that which appeared whenever he got the upper hand in an investigation or a trial, nowadays appeared to boast a shy kind of wisdom.

"What? Is that it?" Kay's lips turned into a pout. "I'm not sure if I got my message across, but you're supposed to take it easy!"

"Impossible." Edgeworth claimed, spinning on his heels to face the crime scene. "A good prosecutor doesn't wait for the truth to come knocking on his door."

Kay rolled her eyes and grinned. "I suppose not, huh? So, did you find anything else I could feed into Little Thief?"

Little Thief was Kay's favorite gadget and the lynchpin in many of Edgeworth's cases, thanks to its ability to simulate just about any kind of scenario once the proper data was fed into it.

"No such luck." the ace prosecutor crossed his arms and finally stopped walking. "Thanks to it we could already determine that the bullet casing from the gun was kicked away. Whether it was an accident or not, it surely threw us off the scent for a greater part of this morning."

"And it explained the contradiction between the entry wound and what we thought was the place where the killer originally stood." Kay added for good measure.

Edgeworth pointed to a spot a good couple feet away, right in front of the broken coffee table.

"The killer more than likely remained there, pointed straight at the victim and then shot her point blank before making his way for the door, possibly in haste. There are no obvious signs of ransacking, but if the evidence is any sign, that's because they found what they wanted straight away. It's only logical."

"You mean the camera?"

"Yes." Edgeworth positioned himself where he deduced the killer had stood at the time of the shooting and pointed to the right. Right at the feet of the wall, there was a camera broken into two major pieces. "They threw the camera and broke it; then the victim was shot and killed."

Kay made a thoughtful face now, looking at Edgeworth. "Our killer had to have been left-handed to make that kinna throw, then. But did they pull out the gun before or after the camera was broken?"

"We'll arrive at a clearer deduction once we actually _have_ a murder weapon. Numerous contradictions would surface if it turned out that Ms. Peabody was held at gunpoint during the entire course of the confrontation, for example." Edgeworth gestured with his arms around the room, then tapped at his temple. "This wasn't a common theft; the killer knew precisely what to look for, which I presume turned out to be the camera. Likewise, the door was not forced and, if there really didn't exist a struggle here as the evidence indicates, Ms. Peabody's killer was someone -"

"-she knew and trusted: Lotta Hart." a male voice interrupted. "That would definitely fly in court."

Both Edgeworth and Kay faced towards the apartment's door. A young woman wearing a labcoat and white-rimmed pink sunglasses over her head escorted an adult male in, one identifiable by his blue suit and porcupine-like hair.

Detective Ema Skye curled her lips into one of her lovable pouts and pretended to elbow Phoenix Wright right in the pit of his stomach. The attorney laughed.

"We were waiting for the right time to excuse ourselves into the conversation," Ema smiled. "but I guess Mr. Wright wanted to make his awesome entry like in those TV dramas. Maybe I should arrest him and teach him some manners!"

Nick smiled inwardly. It was no secret to no one that, ever since Miles Edgeworth had been reinstated as district prosecutor after one of his many trips abroad, Ema and Kay had been competing for both his attention and affection. Those aware of this –not Edgeworth himself, obviously- figured it was alright as long as it stayed a friendly rivalry; it only kept both young women motivated, after all, but there were bound to be problems if they decided to start fighting over the poor and unsuspecting prosecutor.

_Hell hath no fury like two women with their eyes on the same prize_, humorously thought Phoenix.

"Always a lout," dryly commented Edgeworth, but then he took a step forward and welcomed Phoenix with a healthy handshake and a million dollar smile. "but always a pleasure. Wright?"

"Likewise." Phoenix replied immediately. "So is what I've been hearing so far true?"

"True, perhaps, but not _the truth_." the prosecutor said, never satisfied with his job until all ends had been tied. "We're definitely on the right track."

"I wish you weren't." Phoenix joked as he began to scan the apartment with careful eyes. "Lotta asked me to represent her. You know, the snarky puffy haired girl."

"...I'm not an idiot, Wright. It's not like I'd let you in here otherwise." said Edgeworth impatiently. "This is a crime scene."

"Hey!" Nick exclaimed after drawing a blank. "I guess you're right, huh?"

Edgeworth felt one of the veins on his forehead swelling with bile, but Kay and Ema could only laugh. There was something truly charming about how the defense attorney conducted himself these days, after all.

"So what's up, Mr. W?" Kay asked gleefully. "How's things with Apollo and Trucy?"

By now, Phoenix had squatted by the spot where a camera –or rather its remains- laid on the burgundy carpet. He shifted to his side and looked at Edgeworth, who appearing to understand the message behind that stare, quickly shook his head. It was all Nick needed to relax.

"They're doing great, thanks. Right now they are out taking another murder case."

"Wowsers." Kay mused out loud at the coincidence. "It's true what they say. This city never sleeps."

"Ha ha. As for me…" Nick mumbled, taking out a pen to prod at the camera pieces in front of him. "I'm supposing I can't keep my eyes off of this for a reason, and I bet it isn't because of the price tag it probably had behind the counter."

Edgeworth glanced at Ema and offered her a nod. She returned the gesture and smiled, walking closer to the defense attorney with that feminine grace she had come to naturally possess in her later years.

"This camera here was flung across the room and against this wall. And you're right, Mr. Wright; it's delicate and expensive equipment, not to mention the tool of Ms. Peabody's trade." she toyed with the rim of her sunglasses. "You can say the intention to break it had to be a lot greater than the strength needed for that, particularly because the person who tossed it also knew how valuable it was. You see, Ms. Hart's fingerprints were found on it, as well as the victim's. We know all this thanks in no small part to SCIENCE!"

Phoenix gritted his teeth a little. "Dang. And isn't there a chance this was Lotta's camera?"

He knew the question was ridiculous, considering how cheap Lotta was… but his cases rarely made sense in the first place.

"You can do better than that, Wright." Edgeworth taunted from behind. "Ms. Peabody kept spare cameras, yes, but it's stupid to think Lotta Hart would walk in here to break her own equipment. She could do that at her home, in relative peace and, if we're on the right track, without having to murder anyone."

"Plus," Kay Faraday cleared her throat. "we checked Ms. Peabody's credit card statements. She got that camera a couple months back, at a modest price of fifteen hundred dollars no less!"

Nick laughed. "Well, that went nowhere fast. I suppose it's totally broken, in that case?"

"Beyond repair? Yes. But there's something else." Edgeworth pointed at the broken device. "Do me a favor and look closer this time."

It took a couple seconds of fruitless inspection, but then the truth hit Phoenix.

"W-wait. Where does the memory go in this thing?"

Ema knelt next to Phoenix and showed him a slot right on the side of what was originally the back of the camera, a couples inches away from the digital screen and viewfinder.

"It was meant to go here, but as you can see," she ran her nail into the intended slot as a demonstration. "it's empty."

Kay then burst laughing.

"It took Mr. Edgeworth ten minutes to find it, with help from the manual. We found it in like five seconds, right Ema?"

Edgeworth lost his cool composure for a second.

"Don't go telling embarrassing things like that about me! Especially not to him of all people!"

"Ha ha ha. Smooth, Edgeworth." Nick retorted, fully embracing the chance to get back at his rival. He returned to the investigations shortly thereafter, his eyes set on the card slot. "Anyhow. Doesn't it strike you as kind of strange?"

"Homnom-What does?" Ema asked, who by this time was watching the attorneys work while enjoying her favorites: Snackoos.

Edgeworth crossed his arms, closely observing his equal with anticipation.

"I don't know." Phoenix narrowed his eyes. "The fact that there's no memory in this thing at all? Then how can she take pictures and store them? It's like keeping a gun at home, but no bullets."

"Hee." Ema pressed her fingers against the sides of her cheeks. She couldn't help but smile at these two men bouncing back and forth so naturally in their arguments. It's like they were scripted! "Mr. Wright is right on the ball, Mr. Edgeworth."

"The nature of Ms. Peabody's job demands that she be fast and ready to make it wherever her next scoop is." Edgeworth continued, elaborating on Phoenix's logic. "It's only obvious that she would have all her instruments at the ready, including her camera and the memory card needed to store all her pictures. I'd say that such a card was stolen; it's a safe deduction."

"But you don't know where it is." Phoenix assumed. "And I'm betting you don't know when it disappeared, either."

Edgeworth grunted a little and nervously crossed his arms. "We continue to conduct a search all around this apartment, particularly of this living room and the studio. There are enough grounds to believe we are pursuing a vital lead."

Nick stood up and summarized the current status of this case in one sentence.

"So you're missing a gun and probably a set of pictures. Do you believe they are linked?"

"If it turned out that those pictures, missing or not, were deemed important enough to murder?" Edgeworth shrugged and shook his head condescendingly. "Why yes, of course. And it just so happens that your client's fingerprints are all over the victim's camera, after all."

"-what!" Phoenix's eyes widened briefly. He had forgotten. "Gosh, you're right!"

That was bad. That was really bad.

"Hold it!" the attorney quipped suddenly. "How can you know this was the work of a professional, someone who was careful enough not to leave any traces behind? Maybe it was a ninja!"

"A nin..?" Edgeworth quirked an eyebrow and shook his head derisively. "I'll pretend that sick excuse for a legal defense was a joke, Wright."

"Heh." Phoenix rubbed at his neck and shrugged almost innocently.

"Your theory that this was a premeditated crime sadly has a number of pitfalls," began to explain the ace prosecutor. "the first and most important of which is that our victim more than likely knew her killer, based on the evidence we've already gone through. There also exist witnesses who locate Ms. Hart in this building that night."

"N-no! Dammit!"

That was bad. That was super duper bad. Phoenix knew Edgeworth was getting that much closer towards competently and without failure establishing Lotta's motive. If she and Alice Peabody were rivals, who was there to say they didn't try to up the ante by seriously sabotaging one another? The prosecution had enough evidence to present in court and make a case out of it.

Nick had begun making various annotations in his court record –namely about the broken camera and missing memory-, things he was ready to use to confront Lotta upon his second visit to the detention center; but then he was once more interrupted by Edgeworth.

"Don't take too long with that, partner. Finish writing your notes and get ready to go." he said as he walked towards the exit. "There's one other matter we have to talk about in my office. I'll be down at the parking lot. Don't make me wait."

"I'm going, Mr. Edgeworth!" Kay immediately added.

"No!" Edgeworth blurted all of a sudden, not realizing the outburst caused the Great Thief to shrink a little in surprise. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you; but I'm afraid we must make this a private meeting. Try to understand, please."

And so, the prosecutor headed out the door, his message going through perfectly to its intended recipient. Ema and Kay looked at one another puzzled, wondering what was happening; it turned out that both attorneys couldn't have it any other way.

Phoenix did indeed continue taking his notes and eventually finished up, but throughout this process he exhibited signs of a highly contagious, primal anxiety. His goofy fatherly mannerisms were replaced by a soft scowl and stone cold eyes, looking almost sinister, if not angry.

"There we go." he sighed finally. "We'll be putting the investigation under your care now, girls. Be good and report anything that you find, okay?"

"Alright, Mr. Wright." Ema tried to smile, rubbing tensely at her elbows.

"Sure, Mr. W." also replied Kay.

"Be sure to ring me or Edgeworth up if you find the pictures for that camera or anything else, huh?" Nick pleaded redundantly, trying to recover his good mood if only superficially.

By the time he was out of the apartment, his shoulders tightened and his strides became sharp, strong and deliberate. He was all of a sudden a star quarterback, and it was time to hit the field for the game-making play.

Back in the apartment, Ema and Kay didn't breathe until they heard the attorney reaching the stairs. _What was that all about?_

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><p><strong>Really! What was that all about? What is going on between Edgeworth and Nick that has them so stressed?<strong>

**Next chapter: Apollo and Trucy meet Ned Munny with disastrous results (!).**


	7. Everybody Loves Ned Munny

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** This chapter was such a pain to revise, in spite of its unlengthy length! I blame it on the further fleshing out I had to do for Ned Munny's character in this scene. He's the second ofonly two OCs in this novella/fic (the other being his wife), and he –I believe- represents that stylistic change I've been flirting with in this story.

There's really no "gimmick" about him, other than he's just some random guy with a heap of trouble in his lap, but I'm interested in what will happen to him once he develops a little more.

Also, Apollo curses some more this time, hopefully in a way that won't strike you good and trusty readers as tacky! The last thing I want is to make this story "darker" and mature by turning a character into a potty mouth just because.

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>This ain't no place for no hero,<em>

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no_ _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place For A Hero**

**Chapter 7 – Everybody Loves (Ned) Munny**

_May 5th, 10:18 AM_

_Detention Center_

_Visitor's Room B_

If you could summarize the life of a defense attorney working in the big city, you could choose the word "turnabout" and wind up with a pretty accurate description. However, there was no shame in admitting another key word would be "roundabout". An attorney himself would be the first to tell you that you're right; at least, that's the way one spiky-haired attorney felt when he thought of his constant trips across town.

He wasn't one to complain. In fact, he was grateful to be able to make a living like this, under the tutelage of the man he had come to admire for years, but that didn't erase the fact that he had come full circle in his trip in no less than an hour. Now he had come back at the detention center, ready to meet his client.

Phoenix had just left the detention center, or that's what Trucy had gathered after asking one of the more lenient, cooperative guards coming and going around the premises. When she came back to give her report, Apollo was no longer in the waiting hall. The magician hurried into the visitor's room, guessing her partner had already been admitted.

Her hunch was correct. Apollo was already speaking with the client, keeping his court record and a pen handy. An empty seat for Trucy waited besides his.

"-ooh! Welcome back." Apollo turned briefly towards his assistant. He introduced her to his client with a motion of his arm. "Mr. Munny, this is Trucy Wright. Don't let the looks fool you. She's my assistant, and she's pretty good at it."

Trucy did a short curtsy and tilted her silk hat by the brim.

Ned Munny himself wasn't much to write home about. He wore his brown hair short and his security uniform sharp and up to standard, but if you put him next to all the weird and kooky characters the attorney-magician duo had come across, he hardly stood out. He was no more a unique man than the guy living next door, a person who rather than failing to shine simply didn't care to. Still, the look of desperation and loneliness in his eyes matched those of every client the young attorney had represented up to that point. Fear was, after all, a universal code.

Ned answered the greeting with a bow of his own, although it became easy to tell from his frown that he had his reservations about Trucy.

"Uhm… yeah, sweet. I don't know, honey." he tried to point, but somehow didn't go through the full range of motion, as if he was struggling with himself not to be rude. "Is that getup necessary? This whole magician thing."

Trucy wasn't too happy about the comment, but she had heard worst. Thus she comically pretended to be offended, crossing her arms and huffing. She had learned how to roll with the punches better than anyone a long, long time ago.

"Pfft. Look at this guy, so totally out of the loop!" she smiled now. "I'm a magician, the one and only inheritor of Troupe Gramarye's legacy! Right now I only do local shows though, because of school. But that means you can come see me at the Wunder Bar when we get you declared innocent. Deal?"

Ned smirked, catching some of Trucy's enthusiasm. "Yeah. Deal."

Troupe Gramarye had been a touchy subject in Trucy's life for a very long time, due to the circumstances that led to the tragic end of its first generation. Only a short year ago, her adoptive father and her –still unbeknownst to her- big brother had done a magnificent job at purging the Troupe from the darkness that had consumed it so. Now the topic of her proud heritage couldn't bring anything but smiles to her, particularly since her biological father Zak Gramarye had relinquished the performance rights of Magnifi Gramarye's magic to her. It was his final gift to her before departing from this world to the next.

Apollo smiled and reminded Trucy of the seat next to him. "Sounds like a plan, but let's talk business first." he faced Ned. "I've come here on behalf of your wife. She asked me to take your case, and I'm very much willing to do that. I've got all the papers ready here to make my representation of you official. If you'd like to go over them I can just-"

"Hold on."

Apollo quirked an eyebrow. He was a freight train screeching to a halt.

"Yes?"

Ned placed a hand over his face and then ran it over his hair. He refused to make eye contact with Apollo at all when he said the following words:

"I appreciate you comin' all the way down here but… I think someone's already taken my case."

"Excuse me?" asked a startled Apollo. "No offense meant, but I believe you're wrong. I have your information in the court record right here, and the defense attorney field for your file is still blank."

This was strange, but the attorney acted in good faith and avoided making any assumptions just yet.

"Who was supposed to take your case that your wife apparently didn't know about?" he asked.

"Someone from my insurance company, from the agency…" Ned replied, showing evident signs of being nervous. "Look, I don't know for sure, alright?"

Trucy shot a suspicious glance at Apollo, a glance of which he took immediate notice. Was Ned Munny nervous? Was he scared? There was no way to know, but there wasn't any time to play twenty questions either. The two young defenders had come here to act.

"Are you waiting for the state to appoint you an attorney?" Apollo tried to look the elusive Ned in the eye. "It's part of your rights, but I wouldn't advise it. It's not because I want your money, so please don't think of this as a sales pitch, Mr. Munny." he scratched at the bridge of his nose and continued. "If you wait any longer, it's only hurting your chances of having a fair fight in court. That's because the longer you wait, the slimmer the chances will be for whoever's representing you to study the case and take in the facts properly. I'm sure you can piece it together from there, seeing that you're the one who has the most to lose in the trial."

Trucy leaned forward to whisper to Apollo.

"That's funny, tho. I remember hearing stories about Dad taking cases at the last possible second, and winning them!"

Apollo quickly jabbed his knee onto Trucy's thigh.

"Ow! What'd you do that for?"

Apollo looked at her with a panicked face. "I'm _not_ your dad, Trucy!"

Ned meanwhile continued plunging into his own thoughts, considering Apollo's words and wearing a face that was like a mask made out of pure misery. He chewed on his lip, sighed and nodded with the resignation of a man who's consenting to have his hand cut off.

"Okay. Okay. Please represent me. Take the damn case."

Then the suspect pushed back his chair –or more like kicked it-, stood up and pressed both his palms against the window dividing the room. The sound of the metal legs of the chair scraping against the floor startled Apollo and Trucy, but looking at the expression on Ned's face was gut-wrenching. The impact of his words became more ample.

"_BUT YOU'VE GOT TO GET ME OUTTA HERE! PLEASE!_"

Trucy choked a little from the surprise. Apollo on the other hand attempted to calm his frightened client down; the only thing that kept his voice from breaking was the grip his partner had around his arm.

"Relax, Mr. Munny! You're not helping yourself at all this way!"

"_NO!_ You don't understand!"

Out of the corner of his eye, the attorney saw the guard on the other side of the room as he turned to face them. If a suspect got out of hand or caused too much trouble, it was his job to take action, immobilize them and take them back to their cell, or even solitary depending on the circumstances.

Apollo realized he was working against the clock now, but Ned had started bawling at this point, beating on the window with clenched, solid fists.

The guard finally stirred from his statue-like composure and began approaching Ned.

"Alright. Visit's over." he bellowed as he approached.

"Ohcrap." Trucy winced and held her hands against her face.

"_Shit_." Apollo clenched his teeth and stood up as well. "Calm down, Mr. Munny! You've got to calm down for me! Please! If you don't get your act together and tell me your side of the story, there's no way I can defend you properly in court!"

It was then that the pendulum swung back. Ned Munny bared his teeth and pressed his face as close as he could to the glass, to the point Apollo's eyes began to water. Ned had every typical feature of a man that had gone berserk, expressing his fears in sheer, bottled-up fury.

"No one can defend me from _them_, anyway. Just give up." he snarled.

The guard struggled briefly with the suspect before finally putting his hands behind his back and cuffing him. He grabbed a handful of Ned's collar and pulled him back up like a man literally getting ready to take out the trash. Meanwhile, two more guards entered the room, one from the visitor's side and another from the suspect's side. The first assisted in the effort of controlling the man and returning him to his cell; the second calmly waited to lead Apollo and Trucy out to the hall.

They had no intentions to leave yet. All they could do is keep a blank stare on the now empty other side of the room.

Trucy giggled nervously, taking her hat off.

"T-that…" she took a deep breath. "That was pretty intense. Yup."

"And useless." Apollo added sardonically as he slumped back on his chair, arms hanging by his sides. "I couldn't get anything out of him! It's kind of hard to read someone when you're being a wreck, yourself."

He was right. The shock of the moment had sent his ability to perceive into overdrive, leaving him with a slight headache.

"At least you convinced him to let you take his case. Highlight the positives and hide the negatives!" Trucy put her hat back on and grinned. "That's the mark of a pro who's familiar with the big stage. You know, like moi."

Apollo smirked. "Then why haven't you gotten rid of that weird magic panties act?"

"What?" Trucy scoffed and crossed her arms in disapproval. "You're just jealous because you never get to see what's in my panties! But now that you mention my act, you should come see my show more often."

The attorney snorted and held his hands behind his head. "And you do have a show tonight, huh? I guess Mr. Wright and I might have dinner at the Wunder Bar. Remind me to call him about it."

"Super!" Trucy struck her best magician pose. "I'll do my best then!"

Apollo nodded again and smiled in encouragement. Then he reached out to the table set in front of him and began to pack all of his documents and things into a red leather satchel he carried.

"But onto other things," he said, stopping to skim over the pages of the case file he had requested downstairs, the victim's data in particular. "I guess the only way to go now is to visit the murder site and look for clues. Once we comb the place, we can come back and try talking to Mr. Munny, if he's calmed down by then. Ready?"

Trucy stood up and rolled her shoulders to take away any remaining tension from the episode they had just witnessed.

"Ready! Plus, it's not like I will be hitting the pedals."

"Why not?"

Trucy blew a raspberry at Apollo. "Because it's going to get my white boots dirty, silly."

Apollo groaned. "We're so getting a motorcycle. I don't care if Gavin already has one." he lamented as he looked over and memorized the crime scene address, the place where Ned Munny had allegedly murdered one Viola Cadaverini. It was her loan office, the notorious _Tender Lender_.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Them<strong>_**? Viola Cadaverini? What?**

**The plot **_**thickens**_**…**

**Next chapter: The secret meeting between Phoenix and Edgeworth!**

**Please continue reviewing!  
><strong>


	8. Secrets

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** It's another one of those dramatic chapters…. probably the most dramatic thus far. It's hard writing something dramatic and then fail to get that impression across, or instead blow things out of proportion. At the same time, you're so dedicated to your project that you know you have a lot to learn and experiment with, and yet nothing to lose.

Here goes it!

In this chapter, as I promised, we'll return to that dynamic between Edgeworth and Nick that all you fine folks reacted so positively to. What's the secret they are hiding? How does it relate to the two ongoing murder cases? I humbly invite you to scroll down, read and find out.

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

**NOTE:** This update has a couple of grammar errors fixed. Whoops!

* * *

><p><em>This ain't no place for no hero,<em>

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no_ _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place For A Hero**

**Chapter 8 – Secrets**

_May 5th, 11:25 AM_

_District Prosecutor's Building_

_Miles Edgeworth's Office_

District prosecutor Miles Edgeworth's office continued being as opulent and eclectic as ever. Not a thing had changed.

The decoration revealed the man's taste for the elegant, like his tea set, the wine red curtains –obviously matching his outfit-, the bouquet of flowers and even the old jacket he wore for his prosecutorial debut against Mia Fey, framed proudly like a photograph looking into the past. However, one look at the right wall, at the massive bookshelf full with case files, law books and material related to the prosecutor trade made it clear that this wasn't just a vain, pompous abode. Both sides of the room contrasted as much as Edgeworth himself did, both with his refinement and his ultimate dedication to justice.

When both the prosecutor and defense attorney Phoenix Wright walked in, the latter gave the room no more than a glance before getting ahead of his host and sprawling all over a couch that was near the desk. Such an indifferent reaction wasn't from a lack of attention or jealousy; Phoenix had just gotten used to being here, working after hours with Edgeworth in an ambitious little project called the Jurist System.

Relaxed like any man could hope to be, he felt at liberty to reminisce a little while the prosecutor helped himself to some hot chamomile tea.

"Wow. Remember the first time I came here?" the defense attorney asked, tilting his head just enough to see Edgeworth already sitting at his desk. "When was that?"

Edgeworth dipped a small brown bag into his cup and grunted, mumbling something about this "_instant garbage Kay likes_".

"How should I know?" he finally replied. "You come here so often you're starting to become that dopey, bummy friend who rooms with you yet never helps around the house or picks up after himself."

Phoenix grinned. "But you drove me here this time, remember?"

"Don't go thinking I was getting lonely or any other funny stuff." Edgeworth joked. "And don't forget to get your bike out of my car when you leave. If I see that piece of trash next time I open my trunk, I'm recycling it."

"Yeah, yeah… -—Oh! It was back when we helped Lana." Nick then blinked in surprise. "Wow. What a coincidence."

"Heh. Isn't it?"

People v. Lana Skye. The case had caused a major uproar in the community, due to the fact that a Chief Prosecutor was suspected of murdering a detective in the police force; her acquittal had been obtained only after demons from many years back had been exorcised, and many skeletons in many people's closets exposed.

The battle over the last, vital pieces of evidence –all dubiously obtained from former Chief of Police Damon Gant- first exposed both Phoenix and Edgeworth to the bitter truth about the limitations and vulnerable interpretations of the law. This justified anger at the court system's complete lack of common sense and human insight was what caused the prosecutor to look into the Jurist System, and the defense attorney to join him in his pursuit.

"But that's enough small talk." Edgeworth tried to take a sip from his tea and almost made a retching noise. He hated drinking the instant kind, but his schedule was too tight for him to waste time fixing himself a decent cup. "I'm sorry I had to take you temporarily off our murder case, but it's almost time."

Nick rubbed at his forehead with two fingers.

"Yes."

"We have to get ready. The hearing will be taking place next week," Edgeworth quickly checked a calendar he had on hand at his desk. "on Tuesday, if I'm not mistaken. I want good news, Chairman."

Apollo Justice, Trucy Wright, Ema Skye, Kay Faraday, Klavier Gavin and many others knew that the new Jurist System was the object of a strict "review", when in fact it was more like an inquisition that embodied the current court system's refusal to change. Little did they know, however, that Jurist Committee Chairman Phoenix Wright was also in charge of attending the hearings where he desperately attempted to defend the "rebellious new ways". He decided to take this job in secret, coupled with his already busy practice as a defense attorney, to avoid creating any conflict of interest that may damage the legal proceedings. If there were any other motives, he kept them between Edgeworth and himself.

Phoenix stretched his arms and began to open his briefcase. He handed a folder to Edgeworth.

"I finished my opening statement a couple nights ago. It's the same tired baloney: change, yadda yadda, the people's right, yadda yadda, supporting the law and not breaking it… the works. But I added something new this time."

Edgeworth skimmed through the files and smirked. "I'm seeing that right now. More test trials?"

"In the districts where they haven't taken place, yeah. We can depend on the same people who helped us set up the original test trial a year ago, and if you read closely," Phoenix smiled. "I also suggested we run mock trials, to teach people what the new system does, step by step and free of risks."

"It is a smart idea." Edgeworth reclined in his big, comfy leather chair. "They hit us pretty hard with those statistics last time, after all."

The attorney team didn't want to remember. It was a disaster.

In the last hearing to approve or discontinue the new judicial system, the board of judges in charge presented the results of a poll. Said poll revealed that the people were either too scared of being subpoenaed as jurists or indifferent about the whole matter. The evidence was so solid –and in some aspects decisive- that they had almost ruled against the system that day. Phoenix's challenge of those numbers, claiming they were an exact result for an inexact question, earned him a couple more weeks to work on the case.

_It's to be expected_, one of the board members commented, or protested even. _The people do not know the first thing about the law._

But it _wasn't_ about the law. It was about _justice_. Phoenix and Edgeworth had been working to teach them precisely that. Thus far only one judge, a little old but also very wise, understood.

"Yeah." Phoenix shrugged. "I figure it's tough to learn the ropes and have a real person's life on the balance at the same time."

Edgeworth nodded in approval and continued to read.

Both attorneys remained silent for a good five minutes. The prosecutor attempted to start small talk, although his definition of it was in fact rather rigid.

"Franziska called the other day."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. It looks like she's doing quite well in Germany."

"How well?"

Edgeworth smiled to make a significant, almost dramatic pause. "She's close to being appointed as Minister of Justice. I'd say only a couple more years."

Phoenix whistled. "Wow. I guess we should count her out of our plans then." then he shrugged, a tinge of nostalgia seasoning his words. "Her cooperation with Interpol really paid off, huh?"

"Yes. Yes, it did. Both she and Lang have been going up the ladder very fast. Together, almost." the prosecutor commented idly. Something else came to his mind. "Have you talked with Justice about helping us make a case with this?"

Phoenix waved his hand dismissively. "Not yet. He's still too green, really. If I brought him in, he'd love to help and he would do his best, but part of that reason would be because I told him to, and because he _feels_ it's right." he shook his head. "That doesn't wash. He has to _know_ it's the right thing to do. He must be convinced of it."

Edgeworth stopped reading to ponder on that for a moment. "I suppose you're right. And how is he getting along with his sister?"

"Pretty good." Phoenix smiled. "She's the one who taught him how to use his power in court. Oh, and thanks for keeping the fact that they are related a secret. I must've given you quite the evil eye back there! Ha ha ha."

"Don't worry about it." tiredly commented Edgeworth, but then he did a double take. "Wait. You mean you haven't told them they are siblings yet?"

Phoenix shook his head.

"Have you at least told them their mother is still alive?"

Nick felt a line was about to be crossed and held out a hand.

"Let me worry about that, Edgeworth. Please."

Edgeworth and Phoenix exchanged glares for a couple seconds.

This was always a sensitive subject. Was Phoenix reluctant to tell them the truth because he had no time? Was he afraid of how they would react? Was he afraid that Trucy would leave him to reunite with her mother? Or that Apollo would do the same? Edgeworth couldn't figure it out, and Nick wasn't about to tell him.

"Hmph. Fine." Edgeworth spat, focusing his attention back on Phoenix's files. "Is there anything else I need to know? Is this everything you're presenting to the board of judges?"

Phoenix furrowed his brow to help himself think. He was snapping his fingers a moment later.

"—ohyeah. There's one other thing." Phoenix handed Edgeworth another folder, a smaller one. It carried a pungent smell of mint. "I almost forgot about it. I asked our guy to type all of it down because his handwriting was completely terrible, see."

Edgeworth wrinkled his nose and started browsing through the pages. "Our guy? Our guy who?"

"Spark Brushel. You don't know him?"

"No. But even his name is detestable." the prosecutor sniffled. "What's with this smell anyway-wait. Is this that obnoxious reporter who testified in the first test trial?"

"The one and only." Phoenix grinned. "Don't worry, though. He's okay! He's cool, uh… bro?"

Edgeworth narrowed his eyes. "I have a gun taped underneath this desk, Phoenix. Say the magic word and it's coming to meet you."

Phoenix laughed, raising his hands. "Alright, alright! No more bro-ing it up!"

"Good. So, Spark Brushel? He's as shady as can be." Edgeworth said, quirking his eyebrow as he continued to read.

"Ha ha ha. But he got us what we wanted! Give the guy a break, why don't you?"

"A break, you say?" Edgeworth smirked. Suddenly, he snorted into a contained laugh. "What is this! ? Board member Karl Goldigger likes to pick his nose when he believes nobody is looking? Likewise, George Baldminton wears a toupee? …Well that was kind of a given."

Phoenix and Edgeworth shared a quiet laugh as the prosecutor read all of these weird notes out loud. However, there was a point where he began to read a line and his face became absolutely sour.

He immediately slammed the folder shut.

"Phoenix, what is this?"

The defense attorney started hanging his head low from his seat in the couch. His demeanor was no different from a child caught in his mischief.

"Phoenix." Edgeworth called him by his first name once again. Unable to get a response out of his colleague, he resumed reading the files with a great, tangible amount of disgust. "Roger Hoffa has been seen leaving hotels with various notable female celebrities; Hugo Caiman's extended vacation last year is suspected of being financed by embezzled funds-do you know what this is?"

Phoenix felt like the size of a grain of rice now.

"It's blackmail! _Blackmail, Phoenix Wright_!"

"Who are you now? Franziska?"

Edgeworth felt like he was about to hyperventilate, so he immediately took measures to control his breathing. His anger had not yet abated.

"You're right. We wanted to find dirt on the board members, so that we could point out inconsistencies and ignorance about their stand on the issue and use that information against them. We were supposed to present evidence that the shift to the Jurist System was natural, that it made sense. We, however, are not supposed to muscle our way into a favorable ruling, blackmailing all the judges like some third rate thug!"

Edgeworth walked around his desk so that he could face his rival and friend a little closer, placing a finger over the folder that had caused him this outburst.

"I know that the judges in the board are only a bunch of old fools, holding everyone and everything back. They want to keep their so-called spot. They want to make this personal. Hell, we both know what they did to you –to all of us-, but this _is! Not! How! We'll! Fight!_" he shouted, slamming his pointer finger to follow the tempo of those last five interjections. "Is this why you didn't want to call Justice? Well, keep it that way. Don't get him involved in this trash."

"**ENOUGH! **_God dammit!_"

Phoenix yelled in an eruption of anger, the jolt of energy forcing him onto his feet.

Edgeworth didn't back down, yet he remained there, ready to let Phoenix have his say. Until then, he followed the attorney's movements like a hawk as he slowly paced about the room.

"Look, I know what kind of information was in that dossier, okay?" Phoenix began to explain. "I'm not an idiot. I looked it over and I knew right away that it was wrong to be holding onto this information. I know what kind of a hypocrite I would be if I used those kinds of tactics to win. I know…" he paused a moment, relying exclusively on tact for what he was about to say. "…I know doing something like this would take you back to dark places you don't wanna be, Miles. Places you don't need to be. I didn't take out the useless, dangerous parts of that file because I forgot to, and I guess part of me didn't want to. What do I know?"

Indeed. The claims of falsified evidence, of shady plea bargains with defendants and witnesses, of deliberate withholding of information… These were still sore spots for Miles Edgeworth, even to this day.

"Wright…"

"I guess I waited to see how you'd react to this. You have far more reasons to be upset than me, after all. This is your baby in more ways than it is mine. I mean, it's thanks to the Jurist System that I cleaned my name and had the chance to be an attorney again!" Phoenix continued, holding the golden pin in his lapel. "It's for that reason that I've been trying as hard as I have, for my sake, for yours and for the people. They deserve better, and even if they don't know it yet, they're ready for a change. But I guess I got so much of my heart poured into this that I didn't see where I was headed, so as long as I saw the goal line in the distance."

Having finished his impromptu speech, Phoenix shrugged.

"I don't know what else to say, other than I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done this to you."

Nick took a deep breath, slumped back on the couch and ran his fingers through his spiky hair. He looked tired and vulnerable, both sides of him that Edgeworth had seen many times before; still, the prosecutor was moved by how genuine and honest Phoenix had become over the years.

"I-It's okay, Wright. I guess I saw red too fast." Edgeworth said, browsing with contrasting calm through the files Brushel had submitted. "To err is human, and to forgive divine. That's what the judge said in my first trial. This has been a difficult trial, in every sense of the word. I should've been-"

Phoenix exhaled hard and looked at the ceiling. "Don't even say it."

"...alright."

An awkward silence began to settle in. Both men were professionals and a great team, but somehow they had almost never found time to develop a deep friendship beyond the law. Thankfully, a call to Edgeworth's phone saved both just in the nick of time. A quick look at the caller ID revealed it was Ema Skye.

"Hold on." Edgeworth told Nick. "Let me take this call. It's Detective Skye."

"Sure. Go ahead."

Edgeworth stood stiff as a board as he answered the call. His face became solid granite, devoid of any inflection or emotion, yet he constantly shot glances at Wright throughout the phone conversation.

"Alright. I want you to tell Mr. Wright exactly what you told me, Detective. Yes, I know you work for the prosecution, but it's fine. Don't skip any details. Now let me get him on the line for you." Edgeworth reached out his phone for Nick. "You want to hear this. I believe Detective Skye has found our missing photos."

Nick cast a doubtful glance upon Edgeworth before taking the phone.

"Yeah? Wright speaking."

"Mr. Wright!" Ema greeted him with a chipper voice. She had made a great scientific discovery, after all! "What's up? You sound kind of tired, just like Mr. Edgeworth. What are you two up to?"

"Making out like two little lovebirds. What else?"

Edgeworth twitched only ever so slightly, yet he said everything when he made a visible, obvious motion to reach for that gun of his.

Ema pouted at the other side of the line. "That's not funny!"

"Alright. I apologize." Phoenix grinned, the apology meant for Edgeworth also. "So what do you got for me?"

"Hee hee!" the detective laughed one of her smug 'I done science!' laughs. "You won't believe it!"

Thus, her account of her discovery and the preliminary analysis of the evidence began. Ema had become the bearer of important news alright, but they weren't good at all. With this in mind, the attorney figured it was time to speak to his client once again. He was through with games.

Phoenix began to pack his things back in a hurry, not before hanging up and handing the phone back to Edgeworth.

"Alright, then. Looks like we go back to being boy scouts until next Tuesday." Nick chuckled. "If you feel there's anything I should add to my statements, try to fax them to me, alright? If that phone call is any sign, I might wind up way too busy in the next couple of days."

"Sure." Edgeworth said as he took a step back and crossed his arms. "…but are you going to be okay, partner?"

Nick stopped cold, curling his fingers around his briefcase's handle and smiling at Edgeworth. In his efforts to appear calm, strong and unfazed, he highlighted just the opposite.

"Probably not, no…" he sighed. "But a friend needs me. The people and the courts need me. I'm not about to let any of them down!"

* * *

><p><strong>Secrets, indeed. How much closer are we to the truth?<strong>

**No matter the odds, Phoenix Wright continues to push forward!**

**Next chapter: Apollo and Trucy visit the Tender Lender!**


	9. The Cadaverini Connection

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** In this chapter, Apollo Justice discovers it's not so fun being an attorney in Phoenix Wright's world… at least not anymore. We will see Ned Munny's murder case take a clearer shape this time too.

Also, a rather shocking situation develops that may just make Nick's other problems pale in comparison. Oh, you don't believe me? Read on and tell me your thoughts!

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>This ain't no place for no hero,<em>

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no_ _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place For A Hero**

**Chapter 9 – The Cadaverini Connection**

_May 5th, 12:30 PM_

_Cadaverini Turf_

_Outside the Tender Lender_

Trucy Wright and Apollo Justice rode down the streets in search of their crime scene, rarely turning to see each other along the way. At least the latter tried not to face Trucy while pedaling; otherwise, she would give him a hard time about getting lost. Thankfully, the attorney didn't quite feel that way, not when he kept hearing a crowd from the direction the Tender Lender purportedly was. The closer he got, the louder and clearer the ruckus of the crowd became.

Apollo put the brakes on and ran a hand over his two long spikes of hair.

"Hahaha! Come on, Apollo! Ride, wretched slave!" Trucy joked, pretending to whip her friend. "Just kidding! But I'm sure we'll get there if we continue following the racket those people are making."

"Aw, crap…" Apollo nervously drummed his fingers on the handlebar. "See, that's kinda what I'm most afraid of right now."

It was pretty commonplace to have people gather around a crime scene, from reporters to morbidly curious bystanders to just about anyone who believed they had business with a dead body. But if Apollo's ears didn't betray him, this was a far worse than a couple of old ladies swinging their rolling pins and passing out from shock.

Trucy couldn't help but ask, "What do you mean, Apollo? It can't be that bad."

"_It can't be that bad_." mumbled Apollo, doing a bad impression of Trucy on purpose. "Hang on tight! I'll show you bad, you!"

Needless to say, the hot-blooded attorney hit the pedals like a freak out of hell, the speed and the wind almost knocking Trucy's silk hat clean off.

A couple sharp turns, two near-collisions and one dangerous skid later, they had the crowd, the source of all this nearby racket, right in front of them. They were clearly in sight. Trucy had no business looking ahead however; white-faced to the point her veins showed through her skin, she twisted Apollo's ears until they became blood red.

"Polly, you stupid, stupid dummy! What's the matter with you!" she screeched, twisting that much harder. "Do you want to kill me! Just say it!"

Apollo started hollering, tears almost coming out of the corners of his eyes as he pawed at Trucy's hands in a futile attempt to break her painful hold.

"Owowowowowowow! Leggo! Leggo!"

"First you gotta say you eat poop!"

"Agggh! –what! O-Okay, I do! I eat poop!"

Then revenge became torture.

"Who eats poop?" Trucy asked, squeezing those ears firmly and getting ready to twist again at a moment's notice.

"Awgawd—Apollo does! Forever!"

Trucy huffed triumphantly and finally let go, dusting her hands off in victory. When she opened her eyes again, she finally saw what Apollo intended to show her. A nervous smirk took control of her lips. Moreover, what little color she had recovered disappeared just as fast.

No more than three blocks away, not a crowd but a _mob_ of men clad in track suits, sport jackets, Hawaiian shirts and tanktops appeared to be tangled in a brawl with the police, their superior numbers getting the best of the boys in blue. At this rate, it seemed like they'd have to call the riot police if they wanted to return order to the streets. The mob couldn't be allowed to enter the building, not now.

The worst omen of all was that this building was in fact the Tender Lender office, and that the people trying to break in were gangsters speaking with thick Brooklyn accents.

"Come 'ere, all of youse! I take ya on, ya hear! I take yous on!"

"What is dat? You dink youse better than me!"

"Beat it, ya rotten oinker! Or I'mma sue ya for police brutality!"

"This is an _infamia_, ya pigs!"

Trucy nibbled at her finger through her glove.

"Wow. It's like three dozen Joe Pescis and Robert DeNiros are all trying to have a bar fight with the cops."

Apollo rubbed at his still throbbing red ears, half-closing his eyes and shooting a cold stare at his magician assistant.

"I bet you'd rather eat that poop yourself now."

Trucy curled one of her forelocks with her finger, stuck her tongue out and adorably looked away.

"Ehehe…"

* * *

><p><em>May 5th, 12:48 PM<em>

_The Tender Lender_

_Foyer_

Close to ten minutes later, the front door of the Tender Lender exploded open and one young spike-haired attorney came rolling in. His pants were full of dirt and the entirety of his clothes completely wrinkled. Even the buttons of his vest had come completely loose, as well as the knot on his tie.

"Oh jeez…" he panted, lying completely flat on his back. "Don't make me go through that _ever again_."

Going through a mob of dangerous, mean and foul-mouthed gangsters was just as bad as trying to break through a line of scrimmage. Apollo remembered why he never played football in college.

He sat up, took a look around and let his jaw hit the cold floor. There was Trucy, standing by one of the windows, without so much as a scratch or a bruise on her.

"Oh, hi Polly! Took you long enough."

"W-What do you mean?"

"The people outside the building let me through just fine. They are really nice!" the magician tip-toed and leaned over a nearby window frame, looking to the outside. "Aren't you, guys?"

"_Blow me a kiss, doll!_"

"Hee. You heard that?" Trucy struck a playful pose and pretended to swoon. "No one's ever called me that! Not even Mr. Klavier and he's like, one cool customer."

"_Show us your—_"

She immediately slammed the window shut. A big grin appeared on her face.

"Okay! I don't like them anymore."

Apollo had gotten up by then. He had just finished straightening his clothes and thus could only look at Trucy in bafflement, wondering just what planet this strange girl had come from. Certainly it wasn't Earth.

* * *

><p><em>May 5th, 12:54 PM<em>

_The Tender Lender_

_Viola Cadaverini's Office_

Trucy and Apollo were upstairs minutes later. They were greeted by the sight of an office that carried a veritable amount of gloom, not because of the crime therein committed, but rather as a natural consequence of its design. The walls were painted a dark purple, with a cutesy grim reaper figurine on the big mahogany desk and the severed heads of several plush dolls lined up on a shelf behind it.

The police investigation team sure didn't seem to mind all of this. They were here to do their job and find the truth, not to do any sight seeing or offer interior decoration advice. The two youngsters, on the other hand…

"Wow." Apollo muttered as he took the design of the office in. "What is this, the headquarters of Hot Gimmick?"

"I don't see a problem with it." Trucy said, tapping a finger on her chin. "It's kind of cute in a gothy, depressing, emo way."

The jokes had to eventually get left behind. Their eyes came into contact with the white tape outlining the silhouette of what was a dead body. From the looks of it, it had been found slumped over the chair; the telltale signs of blood indicated the shot had been fatal, death perhaps instant.

"What was that Mrs. Ahnette told us about Ned?" Apollo asked in a serious tone, unaware that he was only addressing his client's wife respectfully. "That he had been set up, right? _Framed_. They found a gun with his fingerprints."

Trucy nodded. "Yep."

"Then this doesn't make sense." Apollo stood right where Viola Cadaverini's shooter may have stood as well. He pointed his finger like it was a gun.

One Klavier Gavin had been watching these antics with one of his million-dollar, record breaking smiles. Dressed as always in light and fashionable purple garb, he approached the defense attorney and laughed one of those European laughs he had been known for.

"Wow, what's with the gun finger? Herr Forehead watches too many crime dramas, ja Fraulein?"

"Yup!" Trucy bounced on her feet and giggled. "Sometimes he says he wants to be like Homero, from Convoluted Science Investigations."

Apollo looked at both of them with a frown on his face. He sobbed a little, being picked on relentlessly like this.

_I guess I'll not be getting those sunglasses after all…_, he thought. _Oh wait. Mr. Wright is supposed to buy himself a hat first._

Prosecutor Gavin finally greeted Trucy and Apollo with a mock salute.

"Good to see you've finally come." he smirked, running his fingers over his glamorous pendant. "It looks like we have quite the unruly pack of boys outside. Some of them even claim that I've been seeing their sisters."

Apollo accusatorily narrowed his eyes. "Have you?"

"Gentlemen tell no secrets."

_Oh brother. We gotta get outta here!_

"Hm? You look pale, Herr Forehead."

Apollo stuttered. "Nevermind. I was just… looking at the crime scene! Yep! Crime! Here comes Justice!" he said as he walked away from Klavier and closer towards Viola's desk. "So she was found lying dead on her desk like this."

"And judging from your theatrics just seconds ago," Klavier smiled and leaned forward to meet Apollo's eyes. "I can only surmise you know about the gun."

The defense attorney clenched his eyes shut and grunted at himself. That wasn't very helpful for his case.

"Y-yeah."

"Who told you? Was it your client?"

"His wife, as a matter of fact." Apollo glanced at the rockstar prosecutor. "She told us that they found my client's prints on the gun. I can only assume she wasn't lying, from that winner look on your face."

"It's too early to tell." Klavier betrayed his words and smiled regardless. "But you said something didn't make sense. What was that?"

"Yeah!" Trucy cheered on. "Shove it on his face, Apollo!"

Apollo gulped a little. He hated being in the spotlight like this whenever he wasn't taking part in a trial.

"There's no relation between my client and your murder, other than a gun." Apollo pointed out. Then he tried to make a small bluff, due to the fact that he had no chance to speak with Ned. "And this gun isn't even issued to security guards in his company. The caliber's too big, and nowadays you can't come by guns the same way you do, say… candy."

Klavier brushed some of the bangs off his face and hummed one of his hit songs to speed up his thinking process. The caliber of a gun was a moot point if conclusive, clear fingerprints had been retrieved from it; a gun doesn't have to be yours for you to use it and pull the trigger, after all.

Thinking he'd save that for court if the young attorney decided to bring it up, the rival prosecutor abandoned the matter of the gun and decided to throw him one of those ambiguous leads Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright loved to share.

"Ja. Let's settle that itty-bitty contradiction in court, shall we?" Klavier winked at Apollo and jerked his thumb at the investigation team behind him. "After all, there is something else I believe you should see."

Apollo frowned. "And I'd bet my boots you won't tell me."

"Nein!" Klavier raised his eyebrows and pretended to run a zipper over his mouth. "Auf wiedersehen, Herr Forehead!" he now bowed at Trucy. "Fraulein? I must take my leave and head back to my office. I need to discuss something with Herr Edgeworth before I present my report to the Chief Prosecutor. Which really," he shrugged. "you'd think it should be him as well."

"Yeah. I'm sure Mr. Edgeworth will make it to Chief Prosecutor in no time if he settles for good." Apollo smiled at his rival.

Miles Edgeworth was a man Apollo couldn't help but admire; in the last year, he had won two cases against him, but both times he had gotten schooled and beaten to a pulp. He came out feeling like a loser, a complete rookie.

"It's too bad all that traveling abroad keeps him from climbing up the ladder, huh?" he added.

It was in an instant, a flicker between moments, that Klavier Gavin appeared to sulk, his head lowering like someone paying his respects after a great loss.

"I'm sure he'll be going places… Herr Justice."

The attorney's bracelet suddenly tightened around his wrist like a bone breaking clasp. Klavier was hiding something.

"What?"

Before Apollo could finish making the question, Klavier was already saying good bye once more and headed downstairs to exit the building. The spike-haired attorney rolled his eyes and raised his hands to the air, protesting against whatever force that watched him out there, that_ something_ so hellbent on keeping him thriving in ignorance.

"Goddamnit. Will anyone ever tell me anything!"

"Apollo…" Trucy saw Klavier leave and immediately walked to her friend's side. Her own powers made her experience that same helplessness he was going through. "Polly…?"

"You know what? Whatever. Let's get this over with. Let's do the damned investigation."

The magician regretted her actions and took a slow, careful step back. Apollo immediately realized his mistake and ran a hand through his hair, annoyed at his own misgivings and impatience.

"No. That wasn't fair to you Trucy, I'm sorry." he said sincerely. "But for the last couple weeks, I've felt something big has been going down, something probably bigger than the courts and what we've been through. Whatever it is," he shrugged, truly unable to make an educated guess, or _any_ kind of guess whatsoever. "I'm being left out of it. Mr. Wright just continues feeding me these Mr. Miyagi rants and I don't know what to make of them! Today at the detention center was probably the closest I've been to making him admit something."

Trucy took a deep breath and stepped forward again. She remained unable to look at Apollo in the eyes, so instead she started fixing his tie.

"Mm. I think I see it too." Trucy whispered. "Daddy's been weird for weeks now. Weirder, anyway! He doesn't sleep, and sometimes it's like he doesn't smile as much, y'know?" she grinned. "Maybe I need to find him a mommy to take him to dinner and the movies."

Apollo simply laughed, watching Trucy's fingers tug somewhat clumsily at the fabric of his tie.

"If you're being left out of something, Polly, I don't think he means to do it because he doesn't trust you, or doesn't think you're up for it." the teen magician shrugged. "Who knows? Remember when you figured out it was my real daddy who Mr. Klavier's brother killed? Daddy wanted you to know only at the right time. It wouldn't have made sense otherwise."

"Maybe you're right." Apollo now took Trucy's hands between his own and squeezed them. "Thanks, Trucy. Being with you… it makes it a lot easier to bear. I mean it."

Trucy's cheeks were colored a certain hue of red. "It's alright! We're a team, right?"

"Yeah…" Apollo's hands trembled a little when he let go of Trucy's. The remains of a thrilling sensation tingled in his fingertips. "Let's go check that lead Klavier left us."

"Okay!"

When the search was on, attorney and assistant inadvertently split, each taking different sides of the office while they pretended to look for clues. In reality, all they could think off was that strange emotion they felt when they joined hands, when they focused on the sound of each other's breathing.

Phoenix Wright's problems had become _much more serious_.

Five minutes later, after pulling himself together, Apollo Justice was feeling very confused, but also very, very stupid.

"Oh, come on! Of course!" he shouted, slapping that big forehead Klavier loved to pick on.

"What? What is it?" asked Trucy from the other side of the room. Her current line of investigation consisted of finding out if the cookies left for guests were any good.

The ideas scrambled into place in Apollo's head.

"Assuming!" he began, verbally underlining that point. "Assuming that Ned Munny stepped foot into this place, what reason would he have to do that? He's a security guard, so it's not like they'd hire him. They already have a bunch of goons keeping an eye on this place."

"Goons? -Y-you mean those guys outside were mobsters!"

"Uh… anyhow. It's clear this place is hot."

"Is it? That fan up there works really well in my opinion."

"—street talk." Apollo explained quickly. "But why would Mr. Munny come here then? He'd be putting himself at too much of a risk. Think about it."

Apollo didn't wait for Trucy to follow up on that. He ran to Viola's desk and began looking frantically –perhaps too frantically- in the drawers and the folders she left there before being murdered. He was exchanging rushed words with a member of the investigation team when Trucy at last came over to his side.

"It's this!" the spike-haired attorney said as he was handed some photocopied files held together by a clip. He smacked the back of his hand on it, just like his mentor would have. "Oh jeez. I was right. Look."

Trucy looked over Apollo's shoulder and squinted.

"Wait a minute! That's our client's name. What's it doing there?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Apollo said as he grew increasingly weary of what he was about to collide head-first with. "He took out a loan. A loan for-"

Trucy tried her hardest to make out all the figures and information, but the quality of the copies made it difficult. She eventually resorted to her best investigation tactic: shake Apollo and annoy him until he told her something.

"Twenty five." he said weakly.

"What? Twenty five hundred?"

"_Twenty five hundred thousand_. Looks like a hundred more piled up in interests too." Apollo corrected a wide-eyed Trucy. "We have to look at this man's loan contract. I think we have found his motive for murder, according to the prosecution."

The case was thickening rapidly, lending credible proof to the idea that Ned Munny did have a reason to take Viola Cadaverini's life. How and when the murder exactly happened needed a great deal of looking into, but all of that could perhaps be solved after having a lengthy conversation with the client. Not all was lost! Moreover, Apollo had an undeniable head-start and advantage in the case: a watertight, solid alibi called Ahnette Munny. The defense's case, in spite of all obstacles and odds, was becoming rock solid.

…right?

* * *

><p><strong>Right? Keep on reading and you'll find out, trusty readers!<strong>

**Next chapter: Phoenix confronts Lotta's Psyche-Lock! The secret of the pictures is revealed!**


	10. Alice's Ambition

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** All the questions regarding both murder cases have been made. From here on out, we'll become exposed to the answers. Some of them will probably be predictable, others not so much. But if it keeps you trusty readers interested? It doesn't matter that much, right?

Things are only bound to get tougher, stranger and a bit more tragic from this point forward. Can you guess how this story is going to end?

Lastly, I've changed the primary genre of the fic from drama to crime. Seems more fitting.

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>This ain't no place for no hero,<em>

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no_ _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place For A Hero**

**Chapter 10 – Alice's Ambition**

_May 5th, 1:05 PM_

_Detention Center_

_Visitor's Room A_

A defense attorney and his magician assistant began piecing together the elusive puzzle called "truth"; meanwhile, a good several miles away, another man was a bit farther ahead in a similar pursuit. Phoenix Wright had to return to the detention center and see his client, a freelance photojournalist called Lotta Hart who, by all accounts, had refused to help him discern the nature of the crime she was accused of. Now he was ready; the light of evidence and logic shone bright upon him, ready to guide him to the one true answer.

Lotta welcomed her attorney with a glance. She rubbed at her wrists.

"Yer back sooner than I though ya'd be, Nicky-boy."

"I would have been here even sooner, but I had to feed my hamster." Phoenix joked, quickly noticing the skin around his client's wrists had been worn raw. "Are you alright?"

Lotta rolled her eyes and smiled, rotating her hands with no problems. "Course I am, darlin'! 'Tis just a flesh wound. They need more than just playground booboos to break me!"

Nick grinned. Lotta was either good at putting up an act or was indeed mentally and physically tough to handle incarceration. Whichever it was, she trusted her attorney. That's all that mattered.

"You know," he wondered while placing his briefcase at the side of his chair. "I got this theory."

"…about what happened at Alice's place?" Lotta winced.

"Nah. About why people keep committing crimes like they do."

The photographer quirked an eyebrow. This was an odd tangent. "I'm listenin'?"

"Okay! I think people keep breaking the law like they do because of one simple reason."

"That being…?"

"They haven't tasted prison food." Phoenix grinned.

Lotta burst into a cackle.

"I'm willing to give my testimony on that theory!" she commented still with a smile, although now she was smacking her lips and grinding her tongue against her teeth. "Whatever it is they gave me tastes like freakin' newspaper. Blegh."

Nick laughed while reaching into his pocket like a hitman getting his gun.

"Speaking of testimonies, remember my girlfriend? She told me I should have another word with you."

Lotta abruptly stopped laughing and nearly choked on her spit. Her eyes trained themselves on the magatama Phoenix brandished like a badge of honor. Meanwhile, the attorney closed his eyes for a second and, when they reopened, he and Lotta had been transported to a strange, timeless void. His client was surrounded by a spiderweb of chains and sturdy locks.

_Time to break my way into the truth_, he mused to himself.

"What did your girlfriend tell you?" Lotta asked hesitantly.

"She told me you lied to me." Nick stated matter-of-factly. "But she also told me you have a good reason to be scared of telling the truth."

Lotta remained silent. Nick didn't have it in him to stare her down until she broke -like Edgeworth would have done-, so he opted to lace his fingers together and wait. Yet, she insisted in her silence; Phoenix didn't. Time was up.

"You were in Alice Peabody's apartment the night she was killed, Lotta."

"Gwark! Whut!"

_Don't judge her. Don't get ahead of yourself. Smile._, his inner confidence whispered to him, just like Mia Fey's spirit did all those years ago.

"The police found the new camera Alice bought. It had some fingerprints all over it, and it was broken." he elaborated. "The fingerprints led me back to you."

Lotta looked like a ghost, reeling from the impact of the evidence.

"Ohmygosh. They didn't take it…!" she muttered to herself.

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"I mean… They did!" Lotta nervously crossed her arms. She decided to play hardball. "Well, that's because it was my camera.

"I wanted Alice to see it." the photographer continued. Her lie knit itself tighter as she spoke. "But I tripped on her carpet and I dropped it; it broke into like four bits. It was a mess! I was pretty steamed about it, so I excused myself because I didn't wanna lash out at a bud."

Phoenix immediately retaliated. Over the years, he had adopted a style of cross-examination that was constant and steady like machine-gun fire. He asked for no quarter, and in exchange he gave none.

"That's funny. I could swear the camera broke in _two_ places: the lens and the body."

"-well…"

"And I think Alice's credit card statements list a recent purchase of the same camera. Same brand, same model." Nick continued on, producing a copy of said statements from his briefcase. "So how much did yours cost, Lotta?"

Lotta fixed her headband and lowered her head like a scolded child. Several of the psyche-locks broke and disappeared.

"Alright, Nick. You win. Just… stop creeping me out." she mumbled, vulnerable as she was. "You're playing me like a piano. I get it."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to be derisive." Nick sighed and continued. "It was Alice's camera, but your fingerprints are on it. That means you were there. That could mean you also broke it."

"I did…"

Phoenix glanced away briefly to see more of those locks shatter, as if they were made of glass.

"Okay. Did you have an argument with Alice then?"

Lotta sighed and nodded, causing Nick to furrow his brow in thought.

"I thought you were friends. Did you also lie about that?"

"N-no! I meant that!" Lotta explained, more for Alice's sake than hers. She didn't want her to be seen as someone with whom she had any ill will towards, or vice versa. "I mean, we got a little competitive sometimes, yeah! Ya gotta be if ya work freelance like we do. But we never had a bad word to say to one another!"

Hearing Lotta confess helped Nick take in the gravity of the circumstances. If they did indeed argue in spite of getting along so well, there must have been an important reason.

Phoenix took Lotta's thoughts and completed them with his own. "Not a bad word to say to one another… until that night."

"Until that night." the photographer repeated with a sad, regretful tone.

"What did you fight over?"

Lotta rested her forehead on her hands, too absorbed in her own thoughts or too reluctant to answer. Either way, Nick knew it was time to wake her up with some more evidence.

"During the afternoon, when I was visiting Alice's apartment," he explained. "I noticed the broken camera… but I also noticed it had no film in it. Memory in this case. Everyone on the scene thought it was pretty strange.

"-and only just a little while ago, a detective reported that she found a memory stick hidden inside the stuffing of a pillow in Alice's bedroom. Obviously, the police thought it strange that she went to such lengths to hide something of that sort, so small and really unimportant, all things considered. So it was analyzed."

Phoenix looked Lotta in the eyes. She didn't have to know that last part he made up; Ema had only given him a _gist_ of an idea, nothing else.

"Do I go on or are you ready to talk?" he asked patiently.

Lotta sighed one last time, the Psycho-locks bursting all around her as she began to speak. Her secret had been bared, the events of last night revealed.

* * *

><p><em>May 4th, 8:32 PM<em>

_Alice Peabody's Apartment_

_Living Room_

Alice Peabody, with her short blonde hair and her round features, had the appearance of an angel, hence why it was so frightening to see her mad. Lotta Hart had it worse: she made her _furious_.

"How dare you come into my house and tell me how to do my job!"

"…Ya gotta understand, honey. That's totally not it, but we're way in over our heads with this!"

Alice widened her blue eyes and quickly looked away from Lotta, pacing around her small living room.

" I thought you'd understand, Lotta! I thought you would be happy for me!"

"Alice, whatever yer thinking…"

"But you're just jealous that I got a better scoop than you did!"

"Oh my God…"

"What!"

Lotta massaged her temples and closed her eyes. If she let herself be roped into the same kind of anger Alice experienced, the game was over. They'd get into a screaming match and nothing would be settled.

"One thing is catchin' a celebrity with his or her hands dirty…" Lotta tried to explain. "But this is outside of our field of work! It's outside of what we're supposed to do! Yer only risking your life over something ya think is worth it!"

Alice crossed her arms and trained her eyes on Lotta's.

"And what if I think it is? What if I think you'll only take my photos and steal them?"

Lotta grimaced. _Did she really mean that?_

"Then I'd be in the terrible obligation to call ya an idiot." she spat back and immediately followed, not wanting Alice to cut her off yet. "It's true that in my day I caught pictures of some nasty things, like murders. I'm not proud of it. I caused people grief and I nearly sent 'em to the slammer for no good reason. In the end… I still went nowhere. Do you understand that?"

"That was you." Alice pointed out with a lot of vitriol in her tone. "This is me."

Lotta was fed up. She went home with her point.

"Alice, they are going to try and _kill you_ to get to these pictures. They won't be happy with just taking your camera and stealing the memory stick in it! They'll try to silence you for good!" she claimed, shaking a fist.

Alice, at this point, had perhaps become haughty. She made a face.

"So? I honestly want to see them try. I'll call the police. They'll protect me. I'll take the risk, so good luck getting ahead in your career when you're a _coward_."

* * *

><p><em>May 5th, 1:29 PM<em>

_Detention Center_

_Visitor's Room A_

"At that point I saw red, took the camera on the coffee table and threw it against the wall." Lotta concluded her story with a sob. "…Lordy. I should've insisted a little more. Maybe she woulda understood then. We could be friends still, and she might still be alive…"

Nick looked as solemn as a priest during the time he heard this story.

"That's impossible for you to know." he started to console her. "You did your job. You did what a friend was supposed to do. Sadly, sometimes part of that is realizing you can give people advice, but not orders. Whatever decision she did or didn't take was her responsibility alone."

The attorney balanced forward and whispered:

"I'm sorry, Lotta."

Lotta finally broke, rubbing her hands on her eyes as she began to weep a little. All she could do was repeat Alice's name and say she was sorry in a barely intelligible, moving bawl.

Phoenix meanwhile awaited the moment when she had let most of it out.

"There. Are you okay now?"

Lotta, red-eyed and quite shaken, drew in a deep breath and nodded.

Nick hated to go back to business so fast, but he knew he had to be strong for his client. She had to realize it was his responsibility to help her.

"What was in those pictures Alice took?"

Lotta narrowed her still swollen eyes.

"I thought those had been analyzed."

_Oh crap._

"The analysis wasn't very conclusive." Nick lied immediately. If it was an obvious lie, things had gone past a point where Lotta didn't mind anymore.

"Alice was waiting outside Hotel Kohleefohnyah. You know, that fancy-schmancy place?"

"Got it."

"Well, she locked herself in her car and parked it in front of this place. She was there all night, following a lead claiming that the protagonists of Shack M.D. were seeing each other there, doing the whole hidden romance thing."

"Ha ha ha. Shack M.D." Nick chuckled. "Goldman, it's not lupus! Also, you're black! My boss is hot!"

"Yep! That one!" Lotta grinned for the first time in a while. "But do you know what's next to the Hotel?"

The attorney was caught off-guard. The truth was that he didn't frequent those parts of town unless he absolutely had to… but then it hit him like a wound-up haymaker, flush on the brain.

"You mean the Great City Bank!"

"I guess you've been catching up with the news." Lotta said with a smirk. "Alice sure didn't get her big celebrity scoop."

It all made sense. Phoenix was awestruck.

"She took pictures of _a bank heist in process_!"

"Yep." Lotta lowered her eyes and ruffled her afro. "One of her contacts told her the guys who did this were Hugo Cadaverini's people. You know, the son of that Bruto mafia godfather guy? That's why I was so worried about her. These weren't just some hungry thugs who happened to hit the jackpot."

Nick nodded, but he only did so absentmindedly. His mind was working like a dynamo, piecing facts and details together to form an idea in his mind.

"So Alice was murdered by a mob hitman, probably. Someone was sent to silence her, like you tried to warn her."

Lotta nodding now. Nick rubbed at his chin and kept thinking.

"I got it! Lotta, do you have any way to prove what you just told me?"

"W-what part?"

"Anything!" Nick said with a smile. It was almost literally sparkling. "I think I just found a way to get your acquittal tomorrow, and even find justice for Alice on the side. We could be close to proving who really murdered her!"

Lotta nearly somersaulted off her chair.

"Wow! Are you serious!"

"Darn tootin'!" Phoenix imitated Lotta's drawl. "I'm gonna hand you a piece of paper and a pen. I want you to write anything you know about the heist, about Alice: her sources, names of the informants, the people involved. I want _anything_ that comes to your mind. Now!"

Lotta's usual enthusiasm returned and was amplified by Phoenix's. She began to do as she was told, writing and writing believing… -no, _knowing_ that every word, according to this man, was a lynchpin that would bring justice to poor Alice, giving the last episode of her sad story a proper closure.

* * *

><p><strong>Justice, with a little touch of some Heartland charm!<strong>

**The puzzle is coming together for one of our cases, but what about Apollo?**

**Next Chapter: Apollo and Trucy confront Ned Munny about his connection to the Tender Lender!**


	11. Ned's Regret and Denial

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** It's perhaps a little late to point this out, but chances are you guys have already noticed. Something in the formatting does to stories causes question marks and exclamation marks to disappear when they are next to each other. It's not that big of a deal, but I think something as simple can take away a lot of dramatic power behind some of the lines the characters say.

Onto today's chapter! What do we have here this time? We have another one of those scenes where, much for the chagrin of our heroes, they will be faced with a moral dilemma. We also get to see the always enthusiastic, passionate and fiery Apollo shake loose some of his PG-13 limitations. After all, being so young and so gung-ho about your job can only mean you will take some things very much to heart.

We also see some more character development for Ned Munny! Hmm…

The title of the fic has changed now to be a little more grammatically correct.

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>This ain't no place for no hero,<em>

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no_ _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place for a Hero**

**Chapter 11 – Ned's Regret and Denial**

_May 5th, 2:03 PM_

_Detention Center_

_Visitor's Room B_

"Detective Skye has the pictures of the Great City Bank heist! Seriously?"

Apollo Justice couldn't believe his ears. He was on the phone with Phoenix Wright. Just that morning, they had talked about this same crime. The coincidence was overwhelming.

It's obvious that Apollo and Trucy would have opted to talk to the older attorney personally, but each party had business to take care of. Just as Phoenix was about to wrap up with Lotta Hart, Team Apollo was about to take another shot at speaking with Ned Munny.

"Yeah." Phoenix chuckled from the other side of the line. "But we'll talk later. You have a client to meet, don't you? Don't let him get away this time!"

Apollo laughed. "I won't. Count on it."

"Alright. So let's meet at the Wunder Bar for dinner. We can watch Trucy's show while we eat."

"Sure thing, boss."

Phoenix hummed a little bit. "Eight sounds good?

"Yup! Be seeing you then."

Apollo closed his cellphone in an almost dramatic fashion and walked back to Trucy's side. There was a big grin on his face. It was close to looking goofy.

"Can you believe that?" he asked. "Wow. The coincidences you find in this line of work! They make you wonder if we're all part of a video game, or a book or something."

Trucy giggled, but Apollo noticed immediately that there was something forced, artificial about it. The magician attempted to guide his eyes towards the other side of the room twice before he finally caught on. The sight the attorney met was surprising.

"—Mr. Munny! What the heck happened to you?"

Ned tried to smile. A big shiner and a swollen lip made it tough, however.

Apollo felt like an idiot, although he had nothing to blame himself for; Phoenix had called him right as he was entering the visitor's room.

"They don't like you pulling any funny business here, so they made sure I stayed put like a good boy." said Ned. Was he trying to comfort Apollo? "Don't think too much of it. I've had worse."

In truth, the young attorney had plenty of other things to worry about in the first place, like how this second meeting was nothing short of a miracle. Klavier Gavin had to pull a lot of strings to make it happen; his reason for helping was, as it always had been, to give the defense "a fair fight".

But Apollo didn't fall for that excuse. He knew that Klavier was as interested as he was in Ned Munny's testimony. And if the guards in the detention center already taught the suspect a lesson in manners, he was sure to cooperate now, correct?

Apollo was eager to find out.

"Alright." the attorney finally said, eager to move on. "The reason we called you here a second time is pretty simple, Mr. Munny."

"-yeah. You wanted to talk to me, right?" Ned interrupted. "Sorry for giving you a hard time earlier today, kid. I was a douche."

Apollo smiled politely. He wasn't sure if he should agree with that assessment or not.

"Don't worry about it. But I'm afraid things aren't as simple anymore." he paused just to make sure his next sentence came out rolling clear off his tongue. "We just came back from the Tender Lender offices, Mr. Munny. It's the place where they found the gun with your fingerprints. I'm sure you know that by now."

The way Ned curled his fingers that instant was like a manifestation of how he was shrinking and shriveling up inside. The attorney exchanged a confident glance with Trucy and began playing with the bracelet around his wrist.

"Do you happen to know anything specific about this office?"

"—I…"

"Let me tell you what its specialty is:" Apollo said, taking away his client's chance to reply. "Loans. The Tender Lender is a loan office!"

Ned gritted his teeth. "Hrk.."

"I guess you can't miss it with a name like that." mused Trucy.

"…Anyhow." continued the attorney. "What's a gun with your fingerprints doing in a loan office, a loan office that's run by the mob of all people? It makes no sense if you try to fit the facts together."

Ned went through a number of emotions in a fraction of a second, unaware that all these fluctuations were registered by Apollo's incredible power: anger, frustration, panic, fear. Unfortunately for him, he remained unaware that his attorney had the power to see through lies. Therefore he tried to keep a poker face because, for all he knew, this spiky kid hadn't done his homework at all.

"I guess so."

"But then we went through Viola Cadaverini's records, and we found this loan contract."

The client balled his fingers into tight, cream white fists.

"What the hell kind of game are we playing here, kid?" Ned snarled, momentarily refusing to look Apollo in the eye. "If you got something to tell me, man up and say it to my face."

Apollo allowed himself to have a couple seconds of silence. Whether he was ordering his thoughts, waiting for a cue or simply torturing Ned, it was impossible to know.

"It's about being _your attorney_ moreso than being a man, Mr. Munny." Apollo said. His following explanation was plain, sticking to the impact and truth of the facts: "The gun itself wouldn't have been enough for many judges to sign an arrest warrant against you, considering your background in security; however, the loan you took out from this office is a more than solid proof of your link to the victim. That's why you have been indicted.

"I understand I was in no position to know this when we first met. You were so… distraught, after all."

Ned's injuries weren't stinging anymore. Being pressed like this was in some ways far more painful.

"So what do you want?" Ned asked, his tone that of surrender.

"The truth." Apollo answered immediately, holding Ned's contract in his hand. "If you look coldly at the facts, the prosecution has a strong reason to believe –and clearly try to prove- that you indeed killed Ms. Cadaverini. You don't need to look any further than this. You see… the prosecutor's job is to find you guilty; mine is to believe in you and get you an acquittal."

Ned looked away.

"Mr. Munny. Ned. I can't do that if you lie to me. You're only headed straight for the slammer if you keep withholding information from me. Now's your chance to talk and clear things up."

Apollo attempted to make eye contact with the security guard until he succeeded.

"It's Ahnette." Ned confessed.

Apollo narrowed his eyes. He didn't want to make a mistake and jump to conclusions just yet.

"I'm listening." was all that he answered.

He was going to let Ned finish. It proved to be a wise decision.

"I had to take the loan out for Ahnette's sake." Ned said with a steady voice. "But I didn't kill Viola. I hated her, yeah, but I hated her just about as I hated myself for running to her in the first place. Do you understand? She made me do _things_, things I will regret for the rest of my life, that put my job, my health and my marriage in danger. So I'm happy to see her dead!"

Something akin to relief ran over the suspect's body. He pretended to wash his hands.

"There."

There was so much information to process in that last statement that Apollo had no idea where to begin. He touched his temples and mulled in silence. Meanwhile, Trucy had started nervously rubbing at her wrists.

"You said the loan was taken out for Ahnette's sake." Apollo met his client's gaze.

Ned crossed his arms, and nodded. "So it looks like she didn't tell you. I can't blame her." his lips formed a sad frown. "She thinks she's been a burden to me ever since."

And thus the sad story of the Munny Family became known.

It turned out that Ned and Ahnette did want to expand the family and bring a baby into this world, but fate hadn't been so kind. It was quite the contrary. Ahnette had been unable to conceive, her first and second attempts at pregnancy ending in miscarriages, the last decidedly more harmful to her frail health. Due to Ned's relatively low position in his security agency, his insurance did not cover all of the medical expenses, instead paying a measly ten percent of the entire hospital bill; he was forced thus to cover the rest of it by taking Viola Cadaverini's hand.

"I even set my wedding ring and car down as collateral, along with some other things, so that there didn't have to be a co-signer. I didn't want anyone to know what a stupid, dangerous thing I was doing." Ned mentioned as he rolled the mentioned ring around his finger. "But I knew she wasn't going to stop there if I missed a payment."

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Munny..." Trucy mumbled, her hands gripping handfuls of her cape. "…It must've been so hard."

"Don't worry, honey." Ned replied courteously. His next words were clear, straight to the point. "But that's it. I held a big grudge against Viola. I wanted to see her go to Hell for what she did to me and my family… but I couldn't have killed her. Come on, kid. You think they are going to let a down on his luck client walk to her desk and just smoke her dead? They have people taking care of both the business _and_ the lady. They would've killed me just for thinking about hurting her, assuming that somehow I even made it through them with a piece."

"And you have your alibi to boot:" Apollo asserted. "Your wife."

" Yeah." Ned answered, the faintest smile already on his face.

There was no time for celebration yet. The defense's case was solid, but there was another matter to look into and settle.

"We have to move onto the rest of your testimony now, Mr. Munny." Apollo reclined on his chair. "You said Viola blackmailed you into doing favors for her? Or that's what I gathered. With all this material and this testimony of yours certainly we can—"

"—excuse me?" Ned abruptly leaned forward and looked at Apollo with a quirked, menacing eyebrow. "What am I being charged for again?"

"What? It's murder, Mr. Munny. But—"

"Nothing." Ned pointed a finger right at Apollo's face. "It won't come to anything else in the trial. You'll tell them there's no way I was there, and you'll tell them there's no way I could've done it anyhow."

"But-"

"What are you? Deaf or slow or something? Stupid?" the client asked rhetorically, growing increasingly hostile. "I said I'm not testifying about anything else outside of what happened last night. Hey. Attorney-client privilege, right?"

Apollo gritted his teeth and slammed the sides of his fist on the table. He spoke fast, loud and clear so that he wouldn't be interrupted anymore.

"The prosecution will try to link you to the murder by exposing this in court! The judge will see it, the jurists will see it…"

"Screw the jurists and the judge. I don't see how they will see anything past the tip of their noses. I haven't said anything in questioning, remember?"

"They _will_ see it, Ned." Apollo said forcefully. "This loan contract? They have a copy of it too. They'll realize that the collateral doesn't add up to the money you owe, and they'll want answers for that."

Ned was now growing red in the face.

"Then I guess I can call you whenever they decide to try me for that shit, if they ever do." he said, speaking every word with wide-eyed, devilishly-toned defiance. "Do your job and get me off the freaking hook for killing Viola!"

Trucy shot glances between Ned and Apollo. Both men were no different from bulls. They were ready to explode, huffing like an overheated, overworked engine.

The magician's wrinkled brow faithfully expressed her disbelief. Weren't they the good guys? Wasn't Ned innocent? She thought she had a clear answer, but watching things unfold this way wracked her with doubt.

Intentionally or not, Trucy chose to remain silent. Apollo couldn't, not due to a lack of trying. For all he cared, he would leave another shiner on his client's face if they let him.

"We'll make sure you have a fair trial." was the best promise he could make Ned, spoken in hissed syllables and through clenched teeth. He turned to Trucy, trying to soften the expression on his face. He whispered: "Let's go."

"O..okay."

Apollo gathered his things, stood up and led Trucy to the door; nonetheless, the magician wasn't expecting him to close it behind her. It was in this instant of confusion that the young attorney held the door knob tight, faced Ned Munny through the two slits he now had for eyes and spoke loud and clear.

"Jagoff."

"What the _fuck_ did you call me!"

He didn't stay to see his client's reaction, immediately exiting the room and closing the door for good this time. But even through the door, he could hear Ned's ensuing cries of pain. The guards were earning their salaries again; Apollo ruefully enjoyed the sound of the violence they were inflicting upon the man he was supposed to defend.

When Apollo came out of the visitor's room, Trucy saw him and that blank expression of his, the type that only appears on those who face a moral conflict greater than they could ever hope to understand.

"Polly?"

Apollo blinked and recovered the color on his face at once.

"—Huh? What?"

The magician hit Apollo right in the middle of his forehead with the knuckle of her middle finger.

"Don't space out, dummy! We have places to go! Like the Wunder Bar? Remember?"

Was it over like that? How? Apollo looked at his assistant, marveling at whatever it was –a light, some kind of spiritual fortitude, maturity- that existed in her heart, that something which helped her bear with such tense and chaotic moments.

"About what just happened in there…" he tried to explain.

"Nuh uh!" Trucy giggled and bounced on her feet, pressing a gloved finger on Apollo's lips. "Don't say a word, okay? All this running around, looking for clues, dealing with a rough client… You've had a long day. Your work's done, so what's next is to play and relax a little! How about some magic? Here." she stretched her arm a little to reach for her partner's ear, making a deliberately silly and cute straining noise in the process. "Hang on to this for tomorrow."

Trucy showed Apollo what she had in her hand and he broke into a short fit of laughter as a result. It was his attorney badge, shining proud like a war medal.

Before he knew it, Apollo was hugging her in a warm, relieved embrace.

"Thanks, Trucy." he said, turning to plant a kiss on her cheek.

The young magician giggled in embarrassment and fixed her hat; in the suddenness of the moment, it had almost fallen off her head.

"Don't worry, Polly." she replied in a warming voice. "I'll always be here."

"Always?" Apollo asked in a begrudging tone.

Trucy let her arms wrap around the attorney's midsection.

"Mhm!"

Then their embrace became much tighter, exuding a special kind of radiance that made all the lights of the hallway look dim in comparison.

* * *

><p><strong>And things keep getting complicated for our favorite attorneys' cases and personal lives.<strong>

**Next time, "No Place for a Hero" makes a turn for the unexpected! Get ready for the turning point of this story!**

**Next chapter: Turnabout Bloodshed, Turnabout Heartbreak!**


	12. Turnabout Bloodshed

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** This next scene is just too dramatic and too important to explore everything comfortably in just one chapter. I believe that by gradually immersing you trusty readers in it, I might just do a better job at helping you share the sense of urgency this part of the story is packed with.

In short, if we take our time, we may just find ourselves absorbing the circumstances of this story and the twists and turns it's taking a lot better. It'll work! Trust me. We'll only pace ourselves a little.

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>This ain't no place for no hero,<em>

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no_ _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place for a Hero**

**Chapter 12 – Turnabout Bloodshed**

_May 5th, 8:24 PM_

_The Wunder Bar_

It was only when the spotlight shone upon her, when she faced an audience seeking to be entertained, that Trucy Wright broke out of her shell to become truer to herself and to her dreams. Being an entertainer and also a professional of her trade, she had the uncanny ability to shed just about any kind of pain, be it physical or emotional, the minute she stepped onto the stage to give her first bow of a very magical evening.

Her devotion to the business made her a charm to deal with on the booking side of things, always giving and always willing to make accommodations just so more people could enjoy her show. But in spite of all this, there was always one small request she made to the people hiring her services: "Whatever you do, don't call me the _Last of the Gramaryes_!".

Needless to say, those familiar with her story knew why such a small condition was so important to her; after all, she needn't be reminded that her father had passed on, her uncle was doing time in prison and her mother was missing, presumably dead as well.

In the case of the Wunder Bar's administration, they came up with a far better alternative to introduce her show: to call her "_The Next Generation of Troupe Gramarye_". Such a title was always uplifting, to the point that every time Trucy walked onto the simple stage after hearing it, it looked as though she was skipping or gliding with joy.

Her next act that night, after doing some simple ice-breaking tricks and gags to get the audience warmed up, was one of her favorites: The Amazing Mr. Hat! The weird wooden apparatus unfolded in a way that it appeared to burst out of Trucy's back, whirling and eventually taking hold of its owner's silk hat.

"Gooooood evenin', everyone!" it spoke through Trucy's voice. The audience laughed and applauded. "Good evenin', mah dahlings! So I come here to the Wunder Bar, right? These guys, those at the door… they say I can't come in, right? No pants, no service, they tell me." Mr. Hat then turned to face the magician. "But honey, I gots no legs! What's up with that?"

"You could always try a skirt, Mr. Hat!"

The audience continued to enjoy the show. Mr. Hat said "What's up with that?" a couple more times over the sound of their joy.

Somewhere in the back, two men clad in business clothes ate dinner together while watching Trucy. In their faces was an evident sense of pride.

"She's come along, huh?" mentioned Apollo Justice as he took the final bite out of a club sandwich.

"Yeah. Zak passing the performance rights to Trucy sure helped," Phoenix said with a big fatherly smile. "but she would have improved on her own just the same. It's in her blood. She's a genius."

Apollo grinned. "I know. So how were things with your client, boss? How was today?" he asked, helping himself to a napkin and wiping his fingers off with it.

"We got pretty far ahead for a trial that's happening tomorrow." said Nick. "I guess you only make ridiculous deadlines for so long that you eventually learn how to work with them. I know we'll win it, though it's only a matter of when. What about you?"

Apollo sighed and shrugged his shoulders. He didn't quite know how to put it, so he went for the direct approach.

"My client's a jerk."

"How come?"

"He tries to boss me and Trucy around, telling me how to do my job and demanding I get him off the hook without even letting me hear the full story."

Nick arched an eyebrow. "Yeah? And what about your power?"

"I can't find any lies if he doesn't tell them to me first. And it's not like I can shoot him with truth serum. I sure wish I could, anyhow. Square in the ass! Boom!" Apollo made a face and raised his arms in a pleading manner. His hands rested behind his head. "What else can I do? I told him word for word that the prosecution would make him talk in questioning somehow."

"Talk about what?"

"—oh yeah! Remember I told you he was framed this morning?"

Nick nodded.

"Well, that theory holds water. But he wasn't just framed. He has been _blackmailed_ for months now."

"Aha. So—"

"—Yep." Apollo interrupted, perhaps not wanting somebody else to tell him his case stunk to high heaven. "He's got a lot of skeletons in his closet, and Klavier will more than likely dig 'em out tomorrow. But as Ned himself put it just a couple hours ago, he only wants to be acquitted for the murder. And you know what? I'm fine with that. I don't want to defend him anymore."

The young defense attorney grabbed his glass of strawberry soda and gave it a large and ridiculous swig, almost like a big gruff man who's chugging down a big pitcher of beer. Nick, however, had no time to make fun of him. His brow was furrowed in sharp thought.

"So he's basically admitting to committing crimes due to blackmail. You don't know what crimes, because he's refusing to talk." Phoenix tilted his head. "What guarantee do you have that he isn't guilty of this murder then?"

Apollo eyes flicked wide open. He cupped his chin and started to analyze all the facts he'd learned throughout the day.

"There's plenty of evidence clearing him of that charge." Apollo said with almost fearful, shy honesty. "But to be perfectly honest? I still don't buy it. It's not right. I do believe he's innocent of murder, but I don't believe the story he's trying to feed me either."

Nick narrowed his eyes and scrutinized Apollo. The kid had a good intuition, and it didn't look like he was too far off the mark.

Meanwhile, Trucy Wright continued her show, unaware of the tragedies about to unfold.

* * *

><p><em>May 5th, 8:36 PM<em>

_Ema Skye's Apartment_

Ema Skye's favorite part of the day was when she locked the door of her apartment behind her, hung both her lab coat and duffel bag in the nearby coat hanger and stretched her arms in a big relaxing V. This wasn't because she hated her job –in fact quite the contrary, despite her insistence for a division transfer-, but rather because it was a time when all the grizzly murders, shameless crimes and the plodding darkness of the city were kept away from her life for at least a good couple hours, just what she needed to recharge her batteries and keep going at it.

She undid the tiny belts of her heels and kicked them off, sighing pleasantly as her bare feet made contact with the warm carpet floor. Her toes wriggled almost with a life of their own.

Her apartment wasn't much to write home about since she had little to no time to do interior decoration, but her personality was nonetheless reflected through it. For instance, the very first things one saw upon walking in were posters of Isaac Newton and Albert Einstein, both fairly large and recognizable.

"Mr. Gravity! Mr. Relativity! I'm back!" she greeted these two heroes of hers, reaching out with her arms and pretending to hug them. "Ahh. I wonder if you also got home tired, even after a whole day of SCIENCE! …Probably not, but it's not like you had to deal with a smug blonde diva bossing you around and stuff all day. Hmph."

Klavier Gavin. A lot of people thought Ema constantly brushed him off and insulted him in a fashion similar to a kindergarten crush, but nothing could be further from the truth. What you saw was what you got: she hated him, not personally of course, but the way he handled himself during cases and vital investigations.

"If his fopness didn't have that whole European thing going on, I'd test him to see if he smoked dope or something!"

Ema's lips curved into a thoughtful pout, her fingers rolling one of her locks almost compulsively.

"…why am I talking to myself?" she asked out loud, crossing her arms. "That settles it. I think I need a cat."

* * *

><p>"It's your job to find the truth, and it's your job to give your client a fair defense in court. Those two can conflict a lot, sadly." Phoenix lectured.<p>

"I know." Apollo chuckled. "It's not like this is the first time it happens. Most of my clients have given me half-truths before the prosecution brought them within an inch of a guilty verdict; then they all talked. But why's it gotta be that way all the time!" he whined. "At this rate I'll have a heart condition before I even get to my thirties."

While Apollo ruffled his own hair in annoyance, Nick started to laugh. It wasn't at his partner however, but at Trucy's show.

"She doesn't seem to mind." Phoenix looked at the younger attorney while motioning toward his daughter with his chin. "Considering she helps you in trials and that she also performs live, I'd say that's amazing."

Apollo smiled, looking toward the stage. There was something unique about that smile that Nick failed to notice.

"Trucy…" he said in a hushed, longing tone.

"Come again?"

The younger attorney coughed and looked away, getting a bit red in the face. The last couple months he spent with Trucy, he realized that there could perhaps be something else, something beyond friendship blossoming between them. In a way, he saw that she felt the same way too. How they had evolved from a near sibling relationship into this was a mystery to him. Was it supposed to be natural?

"Oh, nothing! It's just…" Apollo laughed –almost giggled- in a silly voice and shrank. Always one to speak his mind, he let his tongue get the better of his common sense once more. "There's something I have to talk to you about, sir. Man to man?"

Phoenix raised his eyebrows all the way up and then laughed heartily.

"I'm sorry? I didn't know I was supposed to have 'the talk' with you." then he paused. "Plus, how old are you anyway? Aren't you a little late for it? I'm sure I sat down with Trucy when she was probably twelve, and by then she had kind of caught on thanks to other kids at school."

"W-w-what! It's not like that!" Apollo ran a trembling hand over his beet red face. "Gosh…"

"Ha ha ha! So?"

"So?" Apollo repeated in a stupefied tone. Realizing it wasn't a point worth wasting time on, he tried to inch his way forward. "Anyway. I… met this girl."

"Really? Where?"

"I'll get there in a minute!" Apollo explained, holding his hands out and asking Phoenix to stop. This was terrifying enough as it was without having to deal with interruptions and pressure. "I met this girl, okay? First I didn't like her too much, but then we became really good friends, right? We're like complete opposites in almost every way, but I guess that's why I've grown to well… like her, because she's everything I'm not and it's just so different! So new! It's like she completes me." he sighed heavily. "Maybe it's not as deep as I'm making it out to be, since I'm not big on relationships either way… but it's how I feel. I think?"

"Ha ha ha. Great." Phoenix commented as he took a bite out of his salad. "What are you driving at? You're not asking me to lend you my Foreigner albums, are you?"

"No! Look—" the younger attorney was starting to sweat now. His face was all suffering. "Can you take it seriously for like, a second?"

Nick grinned and rolled his eyes. "Fine. So what do you want to do?"

"You mean with her? I guess ask her on a date. I don't know!"

"Classy." Nick joked and waggled his eyebrows. "So who's the lucky girl? Someone you met at the courthouse? I hear there's a female bailiff there who's pretty cute."

"Nah. Actually uh…"

Apollo pressed the tips of his pointer fingers together and laughed nervously.

"It's your daughter, sir. It's Trucy."

In an instant, Phoenix's face became that of a ghost; all the wiring in his brain came loose. Devoid completely of a vertical base, his face landed messily onto his half eaten salad plate. Apollo held both his hands against his head, his eyes as big as dollar coins.

"—hogod."

Phoenix passed out right precisely during a punchline delivery in Trucy's show. The laughter made it appear as though the whole world was laughing at him.

It probably was.

* * *

><p>"Now lookie here! There's a real man." Ema Skye declared, stressing those last two words like the chorus of a great song.<p>

What she was holding was a picture frame, the picture in question depicting a younger self with an embarrassed Miles Edgeworth after the Amano kidnapping case in Gatewater Land. It was true that back then she was no more than a teenager, but as the years went by, she became convinced that her feelings for the wine red prosecutor were more than just a summer break crush; but the man had no eyes for her, or for anyone else for that matter. He was married to his profession. His heart only pursued the truth and nothing else.

This line of thinking used to depress Ema to the point of bitter tears, but as she matured, she grew to understand that some things perhaps are not meant to be, that such obstacles appear in people's lives to lead them towards their real destiny. After all, the only possible thing that could happen if she revealed his feelings to him would be only grief and discomfort; and if somehow, as a result, she stopped Edgeworth from bringing justice to the people? She'd never forgive herself. Ever.

Idly, the detective's heart went to her sister Lana. How did she feel about Edgeworth, herself? Ema figured that, if indeed she was another broken heart left in Miles Edgeworth's wake, it must have been a bittersweet feeling to have him free her of her demons, to be the one to sentence her to spend the last ten years in house arrest.

As far as Ema was concerned, at least she could work with Edgeworth in murder cases, now that he was back full-time in the country. She was glad to see him and he was proud to see her becoming an efficient detective at such a young age. All was good, as far as everyone knew.

And Kay? Ema figured Kay was in the same rough, painful spot she was. Miles Edgeworth was just that kind of man, a quiet heartbreaker, a smart and hardboiled man who in his investigations left a trail of swooning women and wistful sighs.

_Investigations!_ Ema thought. _That's right!_

She immediately left the picture frame in its original resting place and started patting at her hips over the pockets of her pants, stuffing both hands inside. A wave of relief came over her as she felt the distinct feeling of plastic in her fingers. She emptied her pockets to see the item that nearly gave her a heart attack.

It was a plastic bag. Inside was a small rectangle no bigger than the tip of her thumb, with a series of golden pins on one end. This was, in fact, the elusive memory stick she had recovered from Alice Peabody's apartment earlier that day. She would be sure to either turn it in to the precinct's evidence room or hand it over to Edgeworth personally tomorrow.

But then, as Ema kept bouncing the bag on her hand, she felt something hard, vicious and merciless flying past her shoulders and smashing clean against her jaw. She yelped in pain, feeling her face throb as the same time as all sense of balance on her legs disappeared, dropping her to her knees and then to her side.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw a blurry, towering demon of some kind, a shadow that looked down on her like a teenager looks at roadkill.

"I'll be taking that, bitch."

* * *

><p><strong>Ema has been attacked! What about Apollo and Phoenix? There's only one way to find out, and that's by checking out the next update!<strong>

**Also, remember to leave your reviews! Remember: you're the ones who'll decide if this is a good story or not!  
><strong>

**Next Chapter: Turnabout Heartbreak**


	13. Turnabout Heartbreak

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** And it's time to wrap up the scene we started last chapter, but that doesn't mean things are gonna let up!

A couple days ago, a trusty reader mentioned something quite interesting in their review: the compromising situations featured in this fic/novella. While I am not sure if this is meant to refer specifically to the rather awkward situation going on between Apollo and Trucy, there is a great degree of truth in that statement that cannot be ignored. The motif of this story is indeed that of putting the characters in morally, physically and mentally tough situations.

Will they overcome them? Or will they succumb under the pressure? That kind of expectation is what I believe makes for a good story. Now it's up to you folks to see if yours truly has done a good job.

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>This ain't no place for no hero,<em>

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no_ _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place for a Hero**

**Chapter 13 – Turnabout Heartbreak**

_May 5th, 8:49 PM_

_The Wunder Bar_

"Are you gonna be okay, sir!"

The shrill, loud voice pierced Phoenix's ears and brought him back to reality. This was the second time in one day that he was woken up by something of this sort; the first time it had been Lotta Hart, and now it was Mike Meekins, the security guard/bouncer/errand boy for the Wunder Bar.

"I'll be alright, Meekins." Phoenix lied. His head was throbbing like a balloon about to pop. "Just put a lid on it, okay?"

"A lid has been put on it, sir! Hermetic! Sealed tight!" Meekins saluted. "Nothing's getting in or out of that can, bottle or receptacle, sir! By the way, what are we talking about?"

Apollo patted Meekins on the shoulders. "I think he means he wants to be left alone, Mr. Meekins…"

"…Oh." Meekins muttered, lowering his head in sadness. He shouted: "OKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!"

And then he walked off, sulking as usual. Several lanky steps later, he disappeared into the crowd.

"What a screwball." Apollo couldn't help but comment. His attention moved back to Phoenix immediately. "Sir! Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine… Just promise you won't yell into my freaking ear and we're golden." Nick mumbled in what could be described as a groggy stupor. "What happened?"

The younger attorney swallowed. "You don't remember?"

Phoenix blinked a couple times. Suddenly, he found himself recalling the last couple moments he experienced before losing consciousness.

"—Wait, I do now." he said, his brow wrinkling tight into an expression that tried to convey many emotions at once. They were terror, pain, sadness and disgust, welded into one mask.

Nick buried his face on his hands.

"How dare you…?" was the only thing he could murmur in his current state.

"Excuse me?"

Phoenix threw his head back and bared his teeth. "I said how dare you, God damn it!"

Unbeknownst to Apollo, Phoenix was entering a legitimate state of panic. The worst case scenario, the one thing he didn't expect to happen –or rather didn't want to see happening- was taking place right before his eyes like a sick prophecy coming to fruition. He was clearly losing it, the secret that existed between Apollo and Trucy strangling him like so many killers he had put behind bars.

The saddest part was that the younger attorney didn't realize any of this.

"Calm down, Mr. Wright…" Apollo said, trying to play his part as a responsible man. "I know Trucy is your only daughter, and even if she is adopted, you love her like she is your own blood. I don't intend to disrespect you, or even less her. I mean, it's not like I'm asking for her hand, or—"

"Dammit! Would you just shut up and listen to yourself!" Phoenix pleaded, the headache pounding him like a kettledrum. "How dare you go and do this when Trucy's your…" he clenched his eyes shut, begging himself not to take the worst route. "—your friend, my daughter!"

He couldn't tell Apollo that Trucy was his sister. _Not now. Not like this._

"Mr. Wright." Apollo insisted and pleaded in tandem.

Phoenix lowered his head and held his temples. He was very close to also covering his ears like a child, pretending the bad man has disappeared.

"Mr. Wright! Nick! Come on… it's alright. I know it's a shock but—"

In the blink of an eye, Phoenix kicked back his chair, took one step around the table and unloaded a sloppy but violent right hand straight onto Apollo's face. He didn't know where he exactly hit him nor did he care, not even when he felt something popping in his wrist. He only wanted to hurt the young lawyer and see him fall.

Perhaps for the second time in his life, ever since Matt Engarde's conviction, Phoenix Wright had a thirst for revenge that had to be sated. This time, unfortunately, it was irrational.

"It's not alright! It's! Not! Alright!" he shouted, then clutching at his wrist and hissing: "Shit!"

Apollo reeled from the blow and nearly fell, but there was something very lucid in his eyes that screamed to Nick that a line had been crossed. That was why, ignoring the pain on his left eye completely, he walked forward and butted his ample forehead against his boss'.

"I swear, if you ever do so much as even looking at me with the intention of hitting me again, I'm gonna…"

Nick bared his teeth again like they were fangs and pushed back.

"What are you gonna do, spike boy?"

The impotence of dealing with a potentially guilty man and the frustration of fighting a court system that refuses to change; the agony of a love that had been marked as forbidden before it even bloomed and the horror of living a life where the woman you love has left your side forever. Everything came to a boiling point for both men and collided that night in the Wunder Bar, yet only a scant few noticed.

Trucy Wright pulled out Mike Meekins' old megaphone from her magic panties and the crowd laughed with her.

* * *

><p><em>May 5th, 8:53 PM<em>

_Ema Skye's Apartment_

"No…" mumbled a frightened and physically hurt Ema Skye.

She nearly mouthed the word "Please", but something clicked into place inside her as she was about to. In a fleeting moment, her mind revved and accelerated like a fine-tuned sports car, taking in every detail of what was currently happening, of her present circumstances: If what Mr. Edgeworth and Mr. Wright told her were any indication, someone from the mafia had definitely broken into her house to retrieve Alice Peabody's camera memory and destroy it.

A voice in Ema's mind, the voice of common sense and reason –the one she liked to call her saner, annoying side- told her to stay down and play possum until she could call for help… but there was a louder voice also, clearer, braver and with far more conviction that she ever thought she could possess.

_Get up, Ema! Everyone is depending on you! If you let that man go, the case is over! Don't you dare let them down!_

"I won't…" she answered in a daze.

There was one chance, one shot at ending this before things got uglier and out of hand.

She went over her plan twice in less than a second before rushing forward, letting out some kind of warped battle cry that confused the criminal enough to leave an opening. On the way, she picked up a flower vase that she swung at his head like it was a tennis ball. The criminal grunted and his knees buckled, but thanks to a powerful constitution and Ema's fairly weakened state, it was not enough to knock him out cold.

The detective had expected this, so she jumped onto his back like a rabid monkey and tried to immobilize him with any of the submission moves she had been taught in the police academy; however, they all proved to be fruitless, for he remained strong enough to flail his arms about and away from her grasp, knocking over the coat hanger by the door in the midst of their struggle.

Seconds later, he leapt backwards –with Ema still in tow- and crashed onto a wooden dining table, snapping it in half as if it were made of mere cardboard. The poor detective underneath him felt just about the same way, her lungs completely pancaked as her vision started to blur into darkness one more time. She could feel her jaw starting to bruise and swell from the first blow, as well as several ropes of blood trickling town the right side of her forehead, _but she had to do this! She couldn't give up!_

That's when she saw her coat knocked over onto the floor, spread open and revealing the police-issued gun she carried with her at all times, as she had been instructed. Luckily for her, the attacker had grown fatigued and groggy, wobbling and struggling to get back onto his feet while muttering a thousand indecencies.

_Just you wait and I'll make sure you put some soap in that potty mouth of yours…_ Ema thought, gingerly inching towards her gun until she could recover enough to lunge after it. As she was now, she could only concentrate on her breathing while struggling to remain conscious.

Nevertheless, her ray of hope was just about to become the reaper's scythe: the intruder had also come to notice the gun.

The fight to recover the evidence had turned into a race to stay alive.

* * *

><p>Apollo Justice shoved Phoenix Wright away as hard as he could. Given his short stature and compact frame, he managed to generate enough power to knock him off his feet and onto the table they had been laughing and dining at a mere couple seconds ago.<p>

"Alright, then! If that's what you want," the auburn haired attorney challenged, moving to roll his sleeves and forgetting he already wore them that way. "then let's go!"

Had Apollo ever acted like this? Sitting on his tush with salad and sandwich crumbs strewn all over his personage, Nick could only look at his apprentice in bafflement.

"That's enough! You hear me!" Apollo kicked a chair away and made sure his sleeves were folded over his elbows for the upcoming fight. "I can take the jokes, yeah, and I can even take being treated like a chump and an idiot by just about all of my friends and my coworkers. But if you're going to try and lay a hand on me, that's where I'll draw the freaking line!"

Nick bit his bottom lip and rose to his feet.

"Yeah! Come on! It's go time!" Apollo taunted, walking semi-circles around Nick. "I've had it up to here with all the lying, all the bullying and all this contrived garbage everyone seems to pull around me." he said, listing every item with almost gleeful vitriol. "One of Viola Cadaverini's cronies wants me to get him off the hook for offing her. You know what? Fine! I don't care anymore! Maybe I'll just start being an attorney for the mob or something! And I can do it without you, because _I quit_!"

Phoenix looked at Apollo in shock and disbelief.

"That's right! _I quit_!"

But Phoenix had no ears for Apollo's angry separation. Something else he said had caught him cleanly off-guard. Could everything be falling into place?

_It had to be a coincidence. Come on, it had to be! Please tell me I was hearing things…_ was his confused train of thought.

"—What the hell did you just say?" he asked, his knees still a little wobbly.

"I quit!"

"No, moron! Say that again! Viola Cadaverini's dead?"

Apollo threw his arms down in exasperation. "Yeah! The police are keeping it under wraps until someone is convicted. What's that got to do with anything!"

"You idiot! It could be _everything_!" Phoenix immediately ignored the fact that he was having a physical altercation with his junior partner and scrambled for his court record on the Peabody case, picking his briefcase up from the floor. "Holy Jesus. Please, don't let this be it…"

By now, neither of the two had noticed that the magic show at the Wunder Bar had come to a full stop, and that the audience no longer had eyes for Trucy Wright. They could only look at the fight happening between those two in the back, the girl magician included.

"Polly?" she mumbled quietly. "Daddy?"

Two bouncers –serious and effective ones for a change- surrounded the attorneys and firmly "suggested" it was time for them to leave.

"No! We got this under control! Come on!" Nick panicked, picking the table back up and setting it back the way it was. He opened his briefcase and began to frantically look for one file that was about to put a chokehold on both him and his partner. "Apollo! What's the name of your client? Sonny? Ted? What! Quick!"

Apollo took a step back, frightened more than anything from the man's alarmed behavior.

"Apollo! Goddamnit!" Nick insisted. "Take your damned badge and go work for another office if you want later, but now you've got to give me your client's name! Please, I'm begging you!"

"Sir, I will not ask you again." the bigger of the two bouncers interrupted. "I don't care if you're Trucy's dad and you're her friend. You two don't bring this kinda crap to our bar."

Trucy jumped right in front of the bouncers just as they were done talking. Her arms were outstretched, as if somehow she'd be able to stop these two mammoths with pure physical might and will alone. She wasn't sure what was going on quite yet, but she had to help somehow.

"It's alright, Gutsen! They're just arguing about a case!" she begged. "Please don't kick them out!"

Meanwhile, Apollo blinked and answered Nick's question.

"U-uh… N-Ned Munny?"

"Ned Munny." Nick spat almost simultaneously. "It's here… What's it doing here?"

The older attorney stared at the piece of paper Lotta had used to write down all information concerning Alice Peabody's contacts and informants. The name Ned Munny was written clearly in there, in big capital letters no less. It was also very close to the top of the list.

"…What's it doing here?" Nick asked himself again in a loud voice, as if somehow this would help him think faster. "Wait! Isn't he the security guard?"

"Y-yeah, but…"

"Was he posted in the Great City Bank the night of that heist a couple days ago?"

"I don't know! I have no idea!"

"Think harder, Apollo!" Phoenix smashed his fist on the table, further hurting his wrist. "If you dawdle now, somebody might wind up killed!"

"I really don't know, dammit!" Apollo yelled back at Nick, thinking perhaps it would make him see reason. "All I know is that he's a security guard who owes money to the Cadaverinis and—"

Nick narrowed his eyes. _He couldn't believe it!_

"He _what_?"

Apollo did some thinking of his own, his heart suddenly jumping and staying in his throat. Phoenix saw him and experienced just about the same feeling. A hand half-brushed through his hair and rested at his forehead, the truth hitting him like a jackhammer.

_Alice's scoop. Lotta's visit to her apartment. Alice's death. A missing murder weapon. Viola's death. The gun full of Ned's fingerprints. His indictment that morning._

Nick held his head with both hands, as if somehow it would prevent it from exploding from the sudden stress and the pain from the connection he had made and the realization he had come to.

…

"_Oh my God._" was the only thing Phoenix was capable of saying.

* * *

><p><strong>No comment.<strong>

**Next chapter: Ema's fate is revealed! Apollo and Phoenix come to realize the extent of what's really going on!**

**Don't forget them reviews!**


	14. Kiss this Life Goodbye

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** I have to open the notes this time to tell you how grateful I am for the stunning feedback I've been receiving. It has been a wonderful learning experience, and I know I'll feel accomplished but also sad when the time comes to end it. I know it's my time now to give back to the community, which I've sporadically done by reviewing the work of you fellow authors and trusty readers, and now I do it by openly thanking you.

I'm happy to tell you that the draft for the final chapter of this story is close to being finished. What a thrill! Obviously I won't be telling you how many chapters are left, so don't you ask.

In this chapter not only do we see Ema's fate (as promised), but we also see a little bit more of exposition about Ned Munny and his role in all of this. There's also a short tribute to _Taxi Driver_ at the beginning! It's a movie I'm certain changed many opinions I had about narration, and taught me a bit of that urban-inspired poetry you'll be seeing at the end of this chapter. Here's to Mr. Scorsese, for all it's worth!

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>This ain't no place for no hero,<em>

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no_ _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place for a Hero**

**Chapter 14 – Kiss this Life Good-Bye**

_May 5th, 9:18 PM_

_Freeway 11_

Jarvis Fickle looked at the rear-view mirror of his cab for the third time in five minutes. It wasn't even that late in the night and he was already driving with quite the characters. The real night shift was beginning now.

Jarvis wasn't one to eavesdrop or take too much interest in passengers' affairs, so these three people made it easier for him to focus on doing his job by forgetting the small talk. They were engaging in conversation, a heated one. At the very least he caught that two of these fellows, the one with the spiky hair and the black eye and the one smelling like vinaigrette, were attorneys. The younger girl sitting between them on the other hand was, judging from her clothes, some kind of entertainer; probably a magician.

When Jarvis drove by the Wunder Bar to take an urgent call from his radio, the attorneys looked horrified out of their wits and the magic girl pissed beyond compare. The cabbie figured these three had probably been in a fight and were maybe fleeing before the police arrived.

Not that it mattered. The older one of the three handed him two twenty dollar bills, gave him an address and begged him to hit the gas.

The taxi driver obliged, and he hadn't stopped since then. Whatever these people wanted to rant about in the backseat, he figured that fine, it was none of his business. His cab flew from one lane to the other, from one street to the other like a bacteria swimming through the thin and clogged asphalt veins of the city.

Apollo Justice paid no mind to the reckless driving of Jarvis or his lost, glassy eyes. Holding against his eye a compress he improvised from ice cubes and his handkerchief, he only had attention for the horrible revelation Phoenix Wright was unleashing upon him. In the meantime, Trucy kept squeezing the knees of each man with her hands, ready to break them apart in the event that they started to fight again. She was smart enough not to interfere with this very serious talk they were having, but she wasn't about to forget these two attorneys, two of the most important people in her life, had been out to hurt each other just minutes ago. She'd find out why at a later time, even if it took doing some hurting of her own.

"Are you telling me our cases are related?" Apollo asked in disbelief.

"Please, cabby! There's ten more in it for you if you make it before I'm done here!" Nick begged, patting the back of the driver's seat before turning back to Apollo. He backhanded some wrinkled, wet papers he held in his hand. "-Don't you see it? Alice Peabody caught the Great City Bank heist on camera while trying to take some pictures for a tabloid. Her so-called sources told her that the people she had on those photos were Cadaverini soldiers."

Apollo narrowed his good eye. "Her sources being Ned Munny? But that doesn't make any sense."

"It does if you look at the facts. Where was Ned Munny working a couple nights ago, according to his current contract?"

"The Great City Bank."

"And what's next to the Great City Bank? Hotel Kohleefohnyah, the place Alice was keeping an eye on."

Perhaps he was still woozy due to the sudden disappearance of adrenaline in his system, but the younger attorney remained a little confused.

"So the victim in your case had a connection with my client."

"And your client had a connection with the people that I'm sure killed mine."

The blank remaining in Apollo's mind was filled in one sentence, forming along with all the other pieces a completed puzzle of dread, crime and deceit. A bitter taste was literally beginning to flare into his mouth, straight from the pits of his throat.

"Then Ned Munny tipped the Cadaverinis off, so that they could get to her and kill her?"

Phoenix's expression became sour.

"Yes. That's why we're going to Ema's. We have to take a look at the pictures she recovered from the crime scene." he sighed and looked at Apollo in the eyes. Well, eye. "If you've really told me everything, then there's the chance that-"

"-I'm afraid that's the end of the line, folks." Jarvis interrupted the conversation.

None of the three passengers had to ask why. Up ahead on the road, it was like a thousand blue and red stars were flaring and filling the cab with their artificial, cabalistic light. About fifty yards ahead, several police cars and vans surrounded an apartment complex while a man wearing an overcoat, clearly a detective, shouted authoritatively into a megaphone.

"You've got to be kidding me." Apollo mumbled, dropping some ice cubes on the car seat.

"Detective Skye!" gasped Trucy, covering her mouth with both her hands.

"_No_." Phoenix gritted his teeth and nearly flew out of the car. "No, no, no!"

Trucy and Apollo immediately followed suit, their bowels churning and turning as they heard Nick repeat those words over and over and over like a tragic cacophony.

* * *

><p><em>May 5th, 9:22 PM<em>

_Outside Ema Skye's Apartment Complex_

Every police offer positioned outside Detective Skye's apartment building experienced bloodthirst. Why? One of their own was locked up in there with scum, _a cop killer_. There wasn't a single eye not trained on the building, not a single person, man or woman, who wasn't ready to fire their gun. They only needed a reason.

Their collective, heightened sense of attention is what allowed Phoenix, Trucy and Apollo to break past the safety perimeter they had set. It was too late when the boys and girls in blue came to realize; the three were now making a beeline towards the person who was in charge of the operation, a gruff man with a gray overcoat on top of a police-issued Kevlar vest.

"God damn it. Who's letting these people through?" the head detective shouted in exasperated welcome. "Somebody get them the hell out of here!"

Two cops holstered their guns with clockwork precision and headed straight towards the intruders. Phoenix immediately made a move.

"Hold it! My name is Phoenix Wright. I'm a defense attorney and these two are my partners. You can't kick us out of here!"

"Oh yeah? Says who?"

"Chief Gumshoe, pal."

The head detective listened and ordered the two incoming officers to stop. His face then went through the usual sequence of facial twitches someone experiences while in the midst of recognizing somebody.

"Go back to your posts, you two." he ordered to his subordinates and then went back to Phoenix. His expression –at least at that juncture- was that of someone who had no time to waste, and with good reason. "It's kind of scummy for you to be chasing ambulances here, Mr. Wright."

"What! I'm not—" Phoenix was determined to continue and argue, but Apollo's interruption set him back on the right course.

"We came here to see Detective Ema Skye, to talk about a case."

"Shouldn't you be doing that with the prosecutor for your case?" the detective asked, making a valid observation. Nonetheless, Wright & Co. didn't have time for even that. Apollo had to be cautious about not letting on that Ema was violating protocol by helping the defense.

"We heard that she's holding some important evidence. We hoped that she could at least fill us in on the circumstances through which it was obtained."

The detective grimaced. "God, kid. What happened to your eye?"

"That's not important right now! Forget my eye!" Apollo immediately covered his shiner. "Are you even listening?"

"Well, what do you want?" the detective shrugged. "It's not like I'm gonna let you in."

"Just tell us what's going on. Please. Just that will do. Is Detective Skye in danger?"

If the circumstances were different, Phoenix would have commended Apollo for his self-control and grasp of the situation.

The detective chewed his lip and gave a very succinct account of the situation.

According to the 911 call, a loud fight –at first believed to be a marital dispute- had broken inside one of the apartments in the building. A minor grievance was turned into a big problem when another call reported that gunshots had been fired roughly from the same address; it was then that the attempts to contact Detective Ema Skye began, with none of them being in the least successful.

If there was more to the story, it would have to be told later. The man with the overcoat was about to finish reporting when another gunshot ringed from within one of the apartments in the upper floors. Phoenix, Apollo and Trucy faced the building and felt their knees buckling like sand under their weight; it wasn't due to the explosion itself, but rather because of the silhouette that suddenly flashed from one of the windows in the third floor before a body broke through it, sending a million crystal shards flying through the air much like deadly rain.

Everyone held their breath as the unknown individual flew clean through the air and landed on the asphalt below.

Later, people said it sounded just like a watermelon bursting, like a coconut bouncing off the floor. But it made no difference. The remains of what was once a living person were giving the streets one last goodbye, in the form of a mangled kiss.

The police did the job it was trained to do and immediately rushed forward to inspect the body, all while keeping their guns aimed at the building. They had to confirm the identity, but most importantly death.

Ema Skye, peering from the broken window, had to as well.

"_EMA_!"

"Detective Skye!"

Battered, with her hair disheveled, goggles nowhere to be seen and blood trickling from two injuries in her face, Ema Skye nearly collapsed against the tattered window frame as soon as she saw that her attacker now decorated the sidewalk like a bad, pretentious painting. She ditched the smoking gun in her hands and proceeded to hold her elbow. Something pushed against her sleeve and felt broken.

The detective looked outside at her peers waiting down below. She couldn't wave, but she tried.

"That's alright, guys! I'm fine! I'm a cop!" Ema shouted loud and clear, her voice shaking before it broke into an exhausted, terrified sob. "I'm a cop…."

She held her useful hand against her eyes and cried for the first time in years. Not since the day her sister was acquitted for the murder of Bruce Goodman had she done this; and as each second passed, the realization that she had just killed a man sank deeper and deeper. Her tears became a representation of her despair, but also, in a much greater way, her gratefulness for still being alive.

"_I'm a cop…_"

* * *

><p><strong>Held your breath? Then that's a point for me, reader!<strong>

**Next chapter: The puzzle is complete! It's another shocking revelation as we near the beginning of the climax for "No Place for a Hero"!**


	15. In the Wake of Revelations

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** It seems I have misinformed many of you trusty readers, and I apologize for that. What I meant to say last time is that the climax (that is the resolution of the conflict for this fic/novella) is coming, but we also have to deal with the aftermath and of course a conclusion. _And_ before that, there is the matter of the scene we'll be seeing in this chapter and the next.

In short, we're close to the biggest revelation of this story! Oh yeah.

Meanwhile, let me humor you with yet another character development driven piece, one that lets us explore just how things stand between Phoenix and Apollo after that unfortunate event in chapter 12.

I know it's a short one. We'll have the next update sooner than usual for that matter, so fret none.

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>This ain't no place for no hero,<em>

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no_ _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place for a Hero**

**Chapter 15 – In the Wake of Revelations**

_May 6, 2:25 AM_

_Phoenix Wright's Apartment_

The nightmare felt like it was over for Trucy Wright only after she took off her silk hat and boots in the privacy of her bedroom. She was back home with her dad, the one place where she knew she could feel safe, understood and loved with the one person who meant everything to her. Apollo had also come with them, perhaps the single most important man in her life besides Phoenix.

The last couple hours had been straight out of a nightmare. Detective Ema Skye had been shot at and nearly killed by a man called LeGoon, a second-rate leg breaker whose only redeeming talent was picking locks. She had survived the encounter with relatively minor injuries –if you were to compare them with, well, _dying_-, but the fight itself had left her definitely shocked.

Trucy didn't know whether to cheer her on or comfort her. Sadly, she did neither and felt horrible for it.

"I hate hospitals…" the magician mumbled to herself, rubbing at her elbows as she remembered those endless white halls, the tired zombie-like stares of the ER doctors and the groans of pain of the sick.

Knowing that was enough emotional stress for one night, Trucy swallowed hard and left for the kitchen to help herself to a glass of water, planning to get some shuteye afterwards. That's when she saw it, or rather when she felt it.

From the kitchen, the dim light of a table lamp carved the silhouettes of Apollo Justice and Phoenix Wright out of the darkness. She had to squint a little at first, but Trucy realized they were sitting across from each other in the living room, their eyes thankfully devoid of the rage that had forced them to come to blows not too long ago.

The young magician joined them, returning from the kitchen with a glass of cold water for each one. She also had a frozen steak in hand for Apollo's eye, but then she remembered he had been given a medical eyepatch at the hospital. The white piece of cloth, far from giving him the goofy look of a pirate, was a morbid reminder of the fight he had been in with Phoenix.

Both attorneys couldn't face each other. Trucy could see their shame clearly as she sat on the armrest of the couch. Neither man had spoken to the other since their stay at the hospital, and it looked like the vote of silence was to remain even longer.

"What happened tonight?" she asked as plainly as she could, looking down at her wriggling toes. "I was doing my show, then you two started fighting… then dad broke into a cold sweat. He started rambling about both your clients. Later, all of a sudden we were headed in a speeding cab straight into a gunfight." she paced herself with help from her breathing. "Detective Skye could have died tonight."

Apollo and Phoenix lowered their heads even more. What were they supposed to say in return? The younger attorney was the one who cracked first under the pressure of the moment.

"It started with—"

"No. Wait."

Phoenix sat straight on the couch and ran a hand through his hair. Then he held his locket –the one with Trucy's picture- between his fingers. A million things ran across his mind as he prepared to tell Apollo and Trucy the truth, the truth about _many things_. Those were, needless to say, some of the most difficult five or six seconds he ever had to face in his life, the events that transpired that night almost paling in comparison.

But it didn't matter. None of his thoughts did matter. Apollo and Trucy only saw him rolling his eyes and sighing.

Phoenix then came up the most contrived, awkward example he could think of to ease into the subject. He hated himself for his weird choice of words.

"You know how in school they teach you the rule of cause and effect? They also teach you what it takes to start a fire." Phoenix took a sip of water and cleared his throat. "Tonight it was a big fire. I can't tell you everything that made it happen, not until we set things straight and solve the cases we took."

"Cases, cases. It's all cases." Trucy sighed and rubbed at her forehead. "You don't even care about telling the truth to me, your daughter?"

"I can do that," Phoenix looked across the room at Apollo. "if you're alright with jeopardizing his career and his stay in our firm."

Trucy blinked and shot a surprised look at her father. "I… what?"

Apollo exhaled hard and raised his hands as a sign of surrender. "I know what I brought upon myself when I talked to you at the Wunder Bar. I didn't mean to say—"

Phoenix waved a hand dismissively. "It's not what you think, Apollo."

"But I told you I was quitting."

Trucy looked at Apollo in disbelief, hugging her glass only because it was the only thing she could hang onto. "You… you said that, Polly?"

"Did you mean that?" asked Phoenix, interrupting Trucy before things got out of hand.

"No." came the worn-out reply from Apollo.

"I know you didn't," Phoenix offered a handshake. "so there's nothing to apologize over."

Trucy's heart appeared to skip a beat. She set her glass on a nearby table out of her sheer fear of passing out and dropping it.

"Dad," she said in a begging tone. "what happened tonight? Please don't do this to me! Why did you fight? What made Polly wanna quit?"

"Not yet, honey. Not yet."

Then the magician remembered Phoenix's handshake had yet to be answered, but that anxiety soon came to pass. Apollo stood up and not only answered the handshake; he also shared a polite, professional embrace with his mentor. And while he sat back down, Nick remained standing, deep in thought.

"Cases, cases." he murmured the same words his daughter had. "You don't like me being an attorney again, do you, honey?"

Trucy became frightened, but she was quick to realize that her father wasn't asking the question with anger or sadness; and yet there was definitely a hint of disappointment. She wound up shaking her head.

"Yeah. I should've stayed a poker player, I guess."

"No! I didn't mean that either!" Trucy immediately mended her words. "But you have changed so much. You're pretty good at hiding it, so I guess you could've gotten away with it if your baby girl didn't have crazy awesome powers."

Phoenix chuckled, helping his daughter smile a little.

"I'm sure Apollo noticed it too." she also said. Apollo nodded to confirm her suspicion.

"I did only until this morning." Apollo confessed. "Yesterday's morning."

"We were talking about the Jurist System, weren't we?" Phoenix closed his eyes. "Of course. That's what all the angles come down to. That's what it will always come down to as long as the courts refuse to change."

Nick took a deep breath.

"—Alright. Sit down tight, you two. It's time to tell you what's been happening behind your backs this last year."

* * *

><p><strong>The whole truth behind State v. Misham will be finally revealed. The true connection between Ned, Lotta, Alice and Viola will be finally exposed. There is no place for a hero in the courts!<strong>

**Next chapter: No Place for a Hero!**


	16. No Place for a Hero

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N: **I told you that the next chapter would come faster than usual!**  
><strong>

Aaaah. With this chapter, the timeskip subplot is more or less resolved, thanks to a great amount of exposition from our favorite veteran attorney. We can now fully see how tired he is (and with good reason), but at the same time now we can understand how determined he is to keep going.

And hey! Is that a bomb at the end of the chapter? Are you ready for it? You'll be, trusty readers.

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>I don't know just where<em>

_you're coming from,_

_but I know just what_

_you're running from.  
><em>

**No Place for a Hero**

**Chapter 16 – No Place for a Hero**

_May 6, 2:38 AM_

_Phoenix Wright's Apartment_

Phoenix Wright threw his head back. He wasn't going to take a sip of poison; he was going to retch it out of his system.

"It started seven years ago; I lost my attorney's badge and I found a daughter. It never occurred to me that I'd be starting a family all by my lonesome, so suddenly and without Maya." he blinked and tilted his head. "You remember her, right? She was my assistant in those days, back when being an attorney was beginning to mean the world to me. Huh? Why did she leave me? It's simple and at the same time it's complex. You know, it's one of those things."

Nick chuckled. He realized what a stupid explanation he had given, so he gave it another shot.

"During the years she helped me in court, I suppose Maya found out the law goes beyond helping the innocent and finding right and due punishment for the guilty." his voice trailed off, his memories drifting to a not very pleasant time. "At least I know something inside her changed when I convicted the man that saved her life. She couldn't be a part of that world after that. It just didn't seem fair, but her mother had died and somebody had to answer for what had transpired back in Hazakura Temple."

Trucy was sad to relive that memory with her father, but Apollo on the other hand was overwhelmed. Nick had never opened up to him like this.

"The one responsible was a prosecutor, right? And before that he had been a defense attorney."

"Yes. But I'm digressing, aren't I?"

"And he was your mentor's boyfriend." Apollo interrupted a second time.

A slightly dumbfounded Nick found himself staring at his protégé.

"I read the records of that trial." Apollo admitted with great shyness. "I figured I had to, since it was your last big case before…"

He went quiet. He wasn't even going to mention it.

"Heh! I'm flattered. Godot … —I mean, Mr. Armando would be even more so, naturally." Nick smiled. "But as I was saying, following that I had new responsibilities and a new life to build for me and for Trucy. That was the work of the man who tried to ruin me."

Phoenix glanced at Trucy, his eyes screaming a thousand apologies for what he was about to say.

"And he succeeded. He took from me the one thing that defined me as a person. It wasn't just my job and my livelihood:" he paused, effusively patting his chest with both hands. "_it's who I was_. The worst part was that at the time I didn't even know who set me up or why. It wasn't until Shadi Enigmar returned and he was killed that I finally knew the name of the man who fucked me."

Nick blinked and coughed, a finger tracing the lines of his mouth. He was starting to get angry. Seven years ago he promised himself he wouldn't let himself fall in that path of agony and hatred, and he wasn't about to break his word.

"I'm sorry. It's tough talking about this for the first time with you two." Nick smirked, clenching and unclenching his fist to ease his tension. "The only one who knows what I've been through all these years is Edgeworth, God bless him. You know how he traveled abroad to study foreign judicial systems, right? Well, as it turns out, during those seven years he was actually using his research to try and find a way to appeal for my disbarment, or to ask a for a retrial. But it was always a dead end, and it would remain that way as long as the prime suspect was legally a ghost. Then the game changed when you got Kristoph convicted, Apollo. Do you remember?"

Apollo somehow started to feel tiny, but not in the sense of being inexperienced or incapable. Instead, he was reminded of how intertwined and tangled everybody's lives had become over one single incident.

"How couldn't I? But then again, that wasn't a coincidence at all, was it?" he asked rhetorically. "You chose me to defend you because you already knew about my power, about the bracelet."

Apollo felt how the whole room suddenly sank. After Vera's acquittal, he had made many assumptions of his own about the role he played in Phoenix Wright's last case and fateful return. This was the first time he had ever been blunt and open about them.

"No." Nick replied plainly, thinking about how so many things since then had been orchestrated by both Edgeworth and himself. Still, he had to continue, ignoring the nagging feeling of guilt. "With Kristoph behind bars, I could continue my investigations, knowing I now had a suspect, at least. That's also when Edgeworth knew we finally had a fighting chance. So he presented me with it, the fruit of all those years of traveling, studying and hard work."

"The Jurist System." Apollo realized openly.

"And the MASON System too. One, the Jurist System, was a product of humanity, common sense and the will of the people; the second, the MASON System, was a culmination of man's creativity, knowledge and his relentless pursuit of the truth." Phoenix mimicked a scale with his arms and continued. "Edgeworth had been looking not just for the right place, but also for the right time, a moment where he'd be given full clearance to introduce both systems into the country and _use them to help me_. That's when things became…" he paused and sighed. "that's when I started doing things I'm not very proud of to this day."

Apollo clenched his fists shut. Trucy unconciously did the same. Both knew that what they were about to hear was something major, something painful that could perhaps destroy Phoenix Wright's career _beyond repair_ this time.

"In short, it was in fact _my idea_ to bring the Jurist System into the country. He made the suggestion, but I made _the plan_." Nick continued. "Obviously, Edgeworth was by far the most qualified to be chairman for the test trial. In fact, it was pretty much a given that he'd come back to the country, prepare the trial and accept you in the defendant's bench, Apollo; I was only going to feed data into the MASON System. The Ministry of Justice loved the idea! It was in love with the prospect of having Miles Edgeworth come back as such an accomplished man of the law, however…"

Phoenix grit his teeth a little.

"However, they knew they'd be in a hell of a lot of trouble if the trial ended badly for him; and since they couldn't risk losing their premier racehorse as a scapegoat," he smirked sourly and pointed to himself. "they got this Joe Schmoe here to take the ball and see how far he'd take it. If he failed, hey. He was just a bum anyway, some guy who messed up big time to begin with."

The two young ones listening to the story looked crestfallen at this point, but Nick wasn't quite done. Not yet.

"I was alright with taking that risk; it was a bitter pill for Edgeworth to swallow, obviously. But me? I honestly, deeply wanted to see if the legal system could change for the better if we made it through," Nick then smirked to hide his regret as well as a hint of that anger he tried to suppress. "but I also held the ministry and the bar association to their word of giving back my badge. That's how badly I wanted to return to practicing law and helping people."

The older attorney looked up, as if somewhere out there up above existed not a way out, but a way to cope with it all.

"In retrospect, considering where we stand right now, that was pretty selfish and stupid of me, don'cha think? All this time, I've been working very hard along with Edgeworth to make the Jurist System work for this country, but I couldn't let go of my past mistakes. I had to keep an eye on Vera and Kristoph; I had to keep trying to find Trucy's real father; I had to do all these things hoping that I would be able to punch my way through, clear my name and win back my badge by force if I had to.

"We could have run any other case for that test trial a year ago. We could've been patient, but we waited for anything that would help me get a lead on my appeal. In truth, just as Kristoph kept watching everybody, we kept an eye on the Mishams to see if we could get them to tell us anything, either about their client or the diary page forgery he requested."

Apollo nodded his head slowly. He kept thinking how inevitably tragic it was that Phoenix's career was crushed by something you could literally blow your nose on, something so simple and so horrible for that very same reason. A forged diary entry; that's all it took.

"So that's how you were so quick to choose Vera's case for your test trial."

"And that's why we couldn't get the ruling in favor of the Jurist System to stick." answered Phoenix.

Apollo quirked an eyebrow in surprise.

"That can't be. It's ridiculous! We won that case!"

"Yeah." Phoenix smirked. "But the bar association thought I was just trying to get my career back by doing a service to the community or something. They didn't care to figure out that we saw a bright future in this project. I mean, if any other case had been chosen, and if I hadn't set such selfish conditions for approval behind Edgeworth's back, maybe this would be a different story."

"And Vera would be in death row right now," Trucy smiled, reaching out to run a hand through her father's spiky hair. "or just plain dead."

Nick looked at his daughter with his mouth slightly agape. She made the fruit of a seven year long struggle sound so simple. For a moment, _he believed that maybe it was_.

"Don't you see it?" the magician continued. "The jurists saved Vera when the law couldn't, and that was thanks to _you_. I guess you still help people even when you're being a spoiled little kid, or whatever it is you think you are for doing what you did."

"The law isn't perfect." Apollo chuckled and pointed to the patch over his eye. "I guess people aren't either."

Phoenix sighed and smiled, now aware of what he hadn't seen all this time. In his personal war with the system, he had forgotten why he was trying to return to being an attorney in the first place. It wasn't about the courts, or the stubborn old coots not willing to pass the torch to a new generation; it was about the people, and helping them inch closer to that unreachable dream of perfect justice.

Chuckling, he had one last thing to tell.

"Now, as chairman of the original test trial, I've been working in secret with Edgeworth over the past six months, meeting with a special committee in hopes that we can make them approve the Jurist System for good this time."

"—wait." Trucy nibbled on her fingernails, now that she wasn't wearing gloves. "So you're also part of those hearings?"

Phoenix smiled and took hold of her hand. "I'm the attorney who's been presenting that case all along, honey."

"R-really?"

Nick nodded. "It's been tough, but it will get worse. I think they figured out I haven't been bringing just my own guns to the hearings. They don't want Edgeworth to do anything with me, after all; they feel I will hurt his reputation and in turn theirs, as in the Ministry of Justice's. But he still wants to make that gamble, and I am more than happy to honor that.

"At first I kept thinking that it made no difference, that it didn't matter how much the courts changed, since evil people would continue to go about their ways. Murder, robberies, rape, extortion… it would all keep going, regardless of how much we tried to fight it; but Edgeworth's conviction and his faith in the law can convince anyone that there's something worth fighting for. It's worth a shot."

Apollo blinked in confusion a couple times.

"How can we help you? I mean, it's obvious you can't do this alone, not now that you've told us." he observed. "We know how important this is not just for you and Mr. Edgeworth, but to the entire city and maybe later on the country!"

Phoenix smiled, recalling what he'd told Edgeworth about this young, shiny-eyed attorney wanting to help literally hours ago.

"We'll talk about later. You and I still have cases to settle." he said in an authoritative tone, something quite rare for him. "I want to talk with your client in the defendant's lobby tomorrow morning, before he goes to trial."

"What?" Apollo widened his eyes. That was an odd request, not to mention somewhat intrusive. "—I mean, sure, the connection to the Cadaverinis seems to be more than a hunch, but what do you want to tell him? What do you want to ask him? Do you want to have him testify in your trial?"

"No." the chief attorney answered. "I want you to look at this. Trucy? Hand me over that notepad, will you?

A couple seconds of scribbling later, Phoenix was handing over a ripped notepad page to Apollo.

"Here. Look closely at this address I've written. Take it."

Apollo did so, but not without a great degree of wariness. He eyed the note and read it while he held his breath. It was Ned Munny's address, although something was off.

"Wait. The apartment number is wrong, sir."

"Is it?"

Phoenix coolly steepled his fingers. Although there was no haughtiness in his features, there was great sadness, like that of a man who tells no white lies and only horrible truths, a harbinger of misery and hurt. He handed a file to Apollo next.

"What is this?"

"It's the victim's file in my court record." Phoenix dropped his hands on his lap. "The address I gave you was not off. Now I want you to look closer."

Apollo read the address of Alice Peabody and his stomach sunk to the floor. He didn't like Ned Munny and his demanding, shady disposition in the least, but this? Was it real? Could it be?

"What?" the younger attorney asked, his mind going completely numb. He brought a hand to his face and kept it there for the better part of a minute. "Are you serious? Ned Munny and Alice Peabody lived in the same building?"

"Yes." Nick answered rapidly. "It checks with his alibi, too. Your client couldn't have killed Viola Cadaverini that night."

_Do I have to say it?_ Apollo thought weakly. It was the worst case scenario.

"_Because he killed Alice Peabody instead_." came the shaky reply.

The pieces of the puzzle fell neatly into place. Apollo Justice was going to defend a killer tomorrow.

* * *

><p><strong>Phoenix Wright sure doesn't feel like a hero, but he's not about to wait for one to show up. Meanwhile, Apollo Justice is about to discover what it truly means to defend someone!<strong>

**Next Chapter: Phoenix and Apollo prepare to confront Ned!  
><strong>


	17. An Attorney's Conviction

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** And it's finally the showdown with the culprit. Or is it? Who knows? I suppose we'll find out in the following chapters.

I like this chapter a lot. Not only do we see Phoenix and Apollo getting over their differences in the interest of justice, but we also get to have one short scene devoted to Ned Munny's point of view. The reason I wrote such a scene was to dig a little deeper into the character and tap into that fear that made him such a difficult client for Apollo to deal with. After all, who'd keep his cool after being accused of killing a mob boss?

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>I don't know just where<em>

_you're coming from,_

_but I know just what_

_you're running from._

**No Place for a Hero**

**Chapter 17 – An Attorney's Conviction**

_May 6, 2:47 AM_

_Phoenix Wright's Apartment_

The last couple hours had been the most intense in recent months for Apollo Justice. Only a couple things could top getting into a furious argument and a clumsy fistfight with his hero, short of seeing a man die right in front of him while he held his hand. The mad, chaotic feelings currently going through his mind were getting that much closer to topping the scale.

Ned Munny, the client whose case he had taken just yesterday, turned out to be guilty of murder after all! Or so it appeared. However, it was a different crime than the one he was originally accused of; but most importantly, this was the first time in Apollo's career that he could be close to knowingly defending a murderer.

And yet, he refused to believe it! He turned a blind eye to the puzzle and the pieces that had come together so snugly.

"This makes no sense!" he protested. "I was at Ned's apartment this morning and I didn't see you there, sir! Neither did I see Mr. Edgeworth!"

"And did you see a police vehicle of any kind outside?" Phoenix asked calmly.

"No—"

Trucy shook her head. "That's not true. We did, Polly."

"We did?"

The magician shrugged her shoulders nervously. "I know I did, but I didn't think much of it. I thought the cops were there to keep an eye on Mrs. Munny."

"They were instead keeping an eye on Alice's apartment, a crime scene that's up in the third floor." Nick observed. "The Munnys live in the first floor, don't they?"

Apollo sighed. He had to give that round to Phoenix, but there remained other points to look over.

"Okay. But then how come Mr. Edgeworth didn't see a connection between the murder and the suspected killer downstairs?"

"It's a pretty understandable oversight, and not the first time it happens. We faced a similar situation almost ten years ago, during the trial of Detective Skye's sister. Edgeworth was so hellbent in solving one case that he made a fatal mistake and overlooked the link with another; it turned out that both crimes took place at the same time and left the same victim. Plus, there's another prosecutor assigned to Ned's case, isn't there?"

Apollo nodded weakly. "Yes. Klavier."

"Then there you have it."

However, the young attorney's denial was growing to a dangerous level.

"No. I don't have it." he said sharply, standing up as if the impact of the truth couldn't keep him still. "You don't understand! You're telling me my client is a guilty man, and it isn't some nickel and dime stuff here! It's _murder_!"

Phoenix let Apollo have his say. Then he winced preemptively at what he was about to say.

"Don't forget the one possibility that ties everything together."

"Wh-what?"

"_What if Ned Munny was in on the robbery that took place at the Great City Bank_?"

Apollo sat back down, not before clumsily wobbling back to his seat on mildly shaky legs. "…Please, don't tell me that."

Trucy ran to Apollo's side, taking his hand within hers. She couldn't afford to see him suffer like this. "Polly, it's okay."

"No, it's not. My client's a criminal and he's guilty of the worst crime." Apollo ran a hand through his hair. "It's not okay and it's not easy. It's not –it's not… _fair_."

"To whom? Alice Peabody?" Phoenix retorted immediately. "It won't be fair if we give up on her and let her killer walk, Apollo. That's for sure."

"But this goes against everything you've taught me ever since I started working for you, Mr. Wright, ever since I graduated from law school!" Apollo replied, his hands shaking. "Whatever happened to believing in my client until the very end? What about smiling until it's all over, even if my guts are all twisted up inside? I can't do either of those things when I know the person I am breaking my back for is a god damned killer!"

The words struck a chord in Phoenix, at least to the point where his sharp, confident and perhaps snide replies stopped pouring. He crossed his legs and began thinking, although he had to do so while keeping his eyes away from Trucy and Apollo. The weight of their secret still hurt him, and the feelings Apollo was developing for her…

_No. Be a professional. We have work to do. _he thought

"We have work to do." said Nick, repeating the words echoing in his mind. He uncrossed his legs and unknowingly stamped his foot in the process, making his words that much impactful.

"What do you mean?"

"You can still believe in your client." Phoenix said in a straight, deliberate tone. "You can believe that he will do the right thing."

The senior attorney then began to share something with Apollo. It could be called a plan, a strategy, a solution; it didn't matter. It was obvious from the way Nick stumbled over his own words and constantly rectified himself that he was thinking on the fly, his mind probably following the same pace as his tongue; that didn't matter either. What mattered was the scenario he was building, one where, in spite of the odds a defense attorney had stacked against him, he could be at the side of his client, ready to truly defend him from the world, from injustice, and as it concerned to one Ned Munny, from himself.

The course of action Nick presented, at first a jumbled, tangled up string of barely cohesive ideas, now made sense. By the time he was done, Apollo stood up and shook his hand. They were both going to see this through to the end. It was a deal.

* * *

><p><em>Date and Time: ?<em>

_Location: ?_

"Alright then. We have all the evidence ready."

"—and he should be coming very soon."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I had Edgeworth arrange his transfer to the courthouse sooner than usual. It'll give us plenty of time to sit down and talk with him before the trial begins."

There was an odd silence, tense with the electric tingling of near-predatory readiness.

"You have it easier than I did, you know."

"Pardon?"

"-Oh! Darn. Sorry. That did sound like whining, huh?"

"But what do you mean?"

"Well, I've been through this, myself. It was about nine years ago. I had a client just like yours, you could say, but the stakes were a hell of a lot different."

"I see."

"Yes. Let's talk about that later. I mean… God knows we have a lot of things to talk about and catch up on, you and I."

"Yeah. I'm really sorry about last night, sir. I—"

"Don't say anything. We both lost our heads, okay? That's what we said earlier this morning. I mean, look at your eye."

"Heh. I don't need to, Mr. Wright."

"Of course… I'm sorry."

"Haha. So let's agree that we're both sorry, okay?"

"You won't see me object to that."

The turn of a knob jolted both figures into action. They took their positions and waited to perform the grand finale for more than twenty four hours of lying, confusion and misery. It was time.

* * *

><p><em>May 6, 7:22 AM<em>

_Outside the District Courthouse_

Never too much of a romantic or a free thinker, Ned Munny found himself surprised at how excited he was at the thought of being outdoors, even if the terrifying sight of the courthouse loomed before him. Fully aware that he had been temporarily deprived of his freedom, he figured out that this was a natural, almost basic consequence of captivity.

"That's enough dillydallying for you, punk. Come on."

The suspect was dragged off the back of the police van by the elbows, making him lose his footing and nearly fall. His knees were scraped against the edge of the sidewalk, but that didn't compare to the stinging pain in his face, or the steel handcuffs cruelly digging into his wrists, both reminders of the guards' rough treatment. They had no time, no patience and no tolerance for trouble.

When Ned was handed over to the courthouse's security personnel, he sensed a difference immediately. Their treatment wasn't exactly kind, but after a whole day of dealing with openly hostile people, even indifference could be interpreted that way. Seeing their blue uniforms made him feel not imprisoned, but protected. He needed that feeling with him for the entire trail he walked from the van to the inside of the building, a journey from point A to point B highlighted by a great white staircase.

"Come on, guys." he whispered. "Can we move a little faster?"

To the four men and women in blue escorting him, Ned wasn't any more a regular perp than the many others they had to walk in before; however, his perception of things was decidedly different. Everyone, from the visitors, bailiffs, judges, jurists and attorneys to the prosecutors… they were all out to get him.

Getting close, pulling out the gun and emptying about half a clip on him to make sure the job was done; that's all it took for a competent Cadaverini enforcer to kill him. The deed could be done so easily, and at the same time, such a fate was hard to avoid.

"Come on. Come on." Ned insisted in an audible voice.

The stairs. The great white staircase leading to the courthouse suddenly was a mountain that had to be climbed, a strategically unsound rise that gave advantage to the enemy.

Ned forced the words "_Come on_!" through clenched teeth.

The detachment in charge of escorting him to Defendant Lobby No.3 finally took notice of his erratic behavior.

"What's the matter with this guy?"

"Beats me."

_Come on. Come ooooon!_

"He sure is squirming a whole lot. You don't want to get away, now do you creep?"

"Nah. It's more like he's hurrying to enter the courthouse."

_!_

"You serious? Ain't ever met anyone excited to face a murder trial."

_You don't get it, you stinking, no good morons! Move! You're all in danger!_

Being held the way he was, having the handcuffs on and feeling all the pressure from the dark recesses of his conscience, Ned Munny found himself out of breath. Perhaps dangerously so. Either way, he couldn't help but lose all strength, becoming dead weight for the guards who were now dragging him. He couldn't keep his head straight. He couldn't even face forward like an unwavering, confident and innocent man.

Ned coughed dryly. "Just don't leave me outside." he huffed in a last ditch effort to reach the guards. "I'm begging you."

The guards stopped and exchanged perplexed looks.

"Well, you're not getting anywhere if you drag your feet like that, wise guy."

The macabre march resumed, Ned wholly aware that each step was a difference between safety and a bullet spilling his brains. The remaining thirty seconds felt like thirty years.

* * *

><p><em>May 6, 7:30 AM<em>

_Defendant Lobby No.3_

_District Courthouse_

A defendant lobby was quite the place, all things considered. Back in the detention center, one had to become used to the near Spartan conditions; there was just no other way. You had to drink tap water, wave goodbye to your decency when it came to relieving yourself and, if you had to share a cell, you also had to deal with the other guests. Therefore, coming to one of the lobbies was like moving from the shady, sleazy parts of town to a room in the Ritz with all the premium accommodations. In each one there was a big couch, a table for defendants and their attorneys to go through last-minute preparations, another table altogether for coffee and lastly, a large TV set. They even bothered to decorate with plants and the like!

Ned Munny wondered if lobby number three, the one he was led into, was better than the old living room back at his apartment. Then he suddenly thought of Ahnette and everything returned to anguish.

"Alright. Ned Munny?" a bailiff held the door open and stood behind Ned. His speech was clearly rehearsed. "This is the defendant's lobby. You will be assigned to wait here -under the supervision of your counselor- until the commencement of your trial, when I will be coming back to pick you up and take you to the courtroom. You are not to wander about the premises unsupervised; doing so will result in a fine or further charges against you. If you need anything from outside, like using the bathroom, I will be waiting in the hallway to escort you. We will take the handcuffs off once court proceedings begin. Do you have any questions? No? Good."

The door closed shut before the suspect had a chance to reply. He barely had a chance to turn and look at the bailiff's face. A voice greeted him not to far from where he stood.

"Morning, Mr. Munny. Please take a seat."

Ned turned another time, now facing the wall across. His attorney was sitting there at one of the tables, a stack of three moderately stuffed folders within his hands' reach. He smelled just like a college graduate: clean, sharp, charismatic. Ned abhorred that smell. It was but a stench to him, perhaps unconsciously so.

Once he finally did as he was told, he came to notice something different about his already unique-looking attorney. Something was off, as if something about a young defense attorney with tall spiky hair, a really loud red bartender getup and jewelry wasn't off already.

The client started laughing at his lawyer.

"Can you believe that? What's that on your face, huh?"

Apollo made sure he wasn't up for any games with his answer.

"It's a medical eye patch, Mr. Munny. Obviously."

The glare he gave Ned after that also made it clear he wasn't interested in giving explanations or telling stories, although it wasn't hard to guess he had been in a fight. The suspect felt like respecting that, in fact also finding the opportunity to get something off his chest.

"Hey, uh…"

Ned struggled to find the words. He wanted to say he was even with Apollo now that they both had been roughed up, but it didn't seem appropriate to make an off-handed taunt to the man about to represent him in court.

"Okay. It's okay. I'm sorry about your booboo –I mean your eye there." he stuttered for a second. "I was an ass yesterday. I suppose you understand where I'm standing, since you deal with people like me every day. I mean, it's your job, right? Not that I'm excusing myself, y'know? But like… I'm explaining?"

"I'll tell you where you're standing, and that's thin ice."

_Who was that?_ Ned literally spun on his chair to meet the third man in the room, the one standing right in a corner like the devil in disguise. He could've stayed all day there unnoticed for all the murder suspect knew.

It was a man clearly older than Apollo, but the light in his eyes made him look just as young. His hair wasn't as frivolous, though he still wore a spiked hairstyle. His three piece blue suit and the pin on his lapel made him instantly recognizable as an attorney.

"Who's the stiff? And why does he smell of vinaigrette?" the client asked Apollo. He had no qualms in expressing his dislike for Phoenix Wright after seeing him butt into his business like that. "Is he your boss or something? I mean, he wears sweeter rags than you do."

Apollo rolled his eyes and almost bit his tongue. _Not this again!_

"This stiff…" Phoenix came closer to Ned. He stood behind him and carefully placed each of his ten slender fingers on the back of the chair. "This stiff is the difference between a life sentence or the death penalty, asshole. The name's Phoenix Wright."

"Hey! What did the hell did you just say to me? Look at the nerve on this fu-"

"Alice says hello, Ned."

Ned faced Phoenix, his pupils turned the size of a dot. Thus the endgame began.

* * *

><p><strong>It's time to face Ned. Both Nick and Apollo have a secret weapon!<strong>

**Next Chapter: The battle of wits is about to begin!**

**Don't forget to review, please!**


	18. Welcome Home

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** It looks like I made a mistake on the timecodes for chapter 17. Whoops! Those are fixed now.

Here is another one of those chapters where my interpretation of post-AJ Phoenix takes a life of his own. First we saw him discussing the Jurist System with Apollo, then we saw him having an argument with Edgeworth. Now it's time to see how he reacts to Ned Munny. Sparks will surely fly!

Also, is that an early passing of the torch? Hmm….

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>This ain't no place for no hero,<em>

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no_ _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place for a Hero**

**Chapter 18 – Welcome Home**

_May 6, 2:58 AM_

_Phoenix Wright's Apartment_

Phoenix Wright, always confident but always cautious, took out both case files and sat down to give them the thorough, deep reading they needed for probably the seventh or eighth time. But what about his partner, Apollo Justice? He wasn't checking any documents, reviewing any questions or making any time tables for that morning. The one and only thing he had time for was staring at the object resting in his hand.

"…The gun." Phoenix mumbled to himself, his words coming out muffled from the hand cupping his jaw. "Everything's going to rest on the gun, but it'll turn into a gamble if we give him any room to try and be sneaky." he turned to face his partner. "What do you think, Apollo?"

"—Huh? Wha?"

"Come on. Wake up! Trucy already went to bed because she has school tomorrow, but you and I got work to do. We can get plenty of rest later."

"No! No, no. That's not it."

There was an instant of silence.

"Are you sure about this, Mr. Wright?" asked Apollo, squeezing the item he was holding. The insecurity in his voice was that of someone half his age.

Phoenix understood with one glance that his apprentice was confused, baffled by what was going on. He smiled and set aside all documents to sit next to him.

"The time has come, Apollo. You're about to get a smidge closer to knowing what it truly means to be a defense attorney. You'll do it with this."

"It's your magatama, sir."

"Yep. It is, isn't it?"

Apollo looked down at the relic like it was the first time he had ever seen it.

Maya Fey's magatama. Besides the old blue cell phone that began this story, it was the only solid link Phoenix Wright had to his past, the golden days where the law was fair and the courts were wise.

"It's the ticket to the truth." Nick said. "I see no problem with letting you borrow it this time."

"—Yeah! But…"

"Apollo. Listen to me. Look at me."

Nick sandwiched Apollo's hand between both of his, patting the glowing jewel.

"One day -and that day may come sooner than you think- I will leave the attorney trade for good. Then this will be yours, this magatama, the one thing that helped me walk that thin line between life and death, guilty and not guilty, lies and truth. Using it together with your perception powers, you'll be unstoppable in court. You may just become greater than Edgeworth and myself! But I think you'll come to realize that it's not enough, not as long as things remain the way they are right now."

Phoenix gave Apollo a friendly pat on the cheek.

"But you'll make do, right?"

The younger attorney wasn't sure, but he knew from that day forward that he owed it to this man to at least _try_.

* * *

><p><em>May 6, 7:36 AM<em>

_Defendant Lobby No.3_

_District Courthouse_

Apollo Justice was coincidentially looking at his round, warped reflection on the glowing magatama while Phoenix and Ned Munny continued their heated exchange. He wasn't distracted; on the contrary, Apollo was reaching a peak of concentration a man only reaches when he knows he's facing overwhelming odds, yet not impossible.

He listened to the two men and kept waiting for his cue.

"A-Alice? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Alice!" insisted Phoenix. "Alice Peabody, your neighbor."

Ned trembled, but even so he refused to acknowledge that name.

"You don't know her? Really? I could've sworn…" Phoenix wondered sarcastically. "Although it's not like I can blame you. You were so busy murdering Viola Cadaverini that night, after all."

Ned Munny practically roared like a madman and slammed his shackled fists on the table.

"_I didn't fucking do it!_" he yelled, his knuckles turning milk white. "Come on, Justice! Tell this idiot what you found out. Tell him about Ahnette and how I spent the entire night with her!"

Apollo took his eyes off his hands and gave Ned an appraising look, the first in a while. It wasn't just any look, however; it was that of a child watching a fly as he plucks the wings off its back.

"Justice? Justice? Hey!"

"Frankly, I'm interested in what he has to say, Mr. Munny."

"Oh, get the hell out of here!"

Meanwhile, Phoenix stood up from his chair and locked the lobby's door from the inside, a perfectly normal procedure for the defense before trial. When he came back, he had quite the smug, confident expression on his face, belying the complete and utter disgust he had for his partner's client.

"Alright! Quit jerking me around." Ned pointed back and forth between both attorneys with eyes that were starting to become bloodshot. "You're in on something, both of yous."

"Supposing that we are," Nick quipped while sliding his rear onto the table. His hands rested at his lap. "what would that be?"

The murder suspect sighed in exasperation and rolled his eyes. "If I knew I'd tell you, brain surgeon."

"—can I be level with you?" Phoenix interrupted, meaning to cut Ned off on purpose. He wasn't in a mood to wait for an answer either. "Oh, who cares? We've met before."

"We… what?"

"You know. You've been called uh… what's his name?" Nick narrowed his eyes and snapped his fingers. "—Frank Sawhit, Rick Wellington, April May, Mimi Miney, Furio Tigre, Matt Engarde… it doesn't matter. You're always the same. Every. Time. You always come back and you always tell your lies, so that well meaning attorneys like Mr. Justice and myself sit down and listen until we choke on them. Then we get to see your true colors. When that happens, we corner you and expose you as the rats you really are."

Phoenix furrowed his brow and stared daggers right through Ned. Then he began laughing as usual, as if he had grown tired of it.

"And do you know what the funny part about that is? It doesn't matter how much society changes. It doesn't matter if our court system changes or not. Why? Because jurists or no jurists, you'll still be there waiting for us, trying to trick us. It's all a big funny joke."

Ned was now digging his fingers into his hair, his head lowered and his forehead parallel with the table.

"What do you want?" he asked in a tormented, perplexed voice. "I haven't done anything! I swear on my wife's name!"

Phoenix had no heart or ears to listen to this man's plight. Not anymore. That was ten years ago, and that's a long, long time. His eyes focused vacantly on the wall across from him, his mouth muttering two words:

_Welcome home._

"Alright, Apollo." he said shortly afterwards, coming off the table and standing behind his protégé. He squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You can do it now."

Apollo listened and clenched both his hands around the magatama, closing his eyes. Many things came to his mind at that point, like Ahnette Munny's hopeful request, Ned's murderous disposition and the attempt on Ema Skye's life. Both his mind and body started to feel like a battery, surging with energies unknown.

When he opened his eyes, it was all chains around him. Rusted chains and locks.

"Whoa! What's going on?" he murmured in a panicked tone.

"Don't fight it, Apollo. Ease into it." Phoenix advised. "These are Psyche-Locks, and the truth of what happened the night of the murder is right past them. Are you ready?"

Apollo took a deep breath and slammed both his fists on the table.

"Yes!"

Nick smiled and patted him on the back.

"Never doubted you."

* * *

><p><strong>The power to perceive and the power to break the locks around a person's heart, merged into one to pursuit the truth!<strong>

**Next chapter: CORNERED!**


	19. CORNERED

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** We're getting that much closer to the finale of this novella, starting with this chapter!

Here, as you can see, we'll have a good old cross examination like they only exist in the Ace Attorney world. I remember it being tougher to write than it was to revise, but then again, things like the twist at the end of the chapter make it all worth it. Hopefully you trusty readers will agree!

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>This ain't no place for no hero,<em>

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no_ _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place for a Hero**

**Chapter 19 – CORNERED**

_May 6, 7:40 AM_

_Defendant Lobby No.3_

_District Courthouse_

Ned Munny desperately clawed at his hair and hid his eyes from both Apollo and Phoenix, his attorneys, as if he were somehow attempting to withdraw into himself, away from a world of failures, suspicions, pain, but most of all… mistakes.

"You already know how to do this, Apollo." Phoenix reminded his protégé. By now, he had taken a position similar to that of a boxing second. "There's no hurry. Make every step you take confident and bold. It's all for the client's and the truth's sake."

Apollo nodded, took a couple breaths and did what he was born to do.

"I'm afraid that over the course of a couple hours, Mr. Munny, certain things have come to light that contradict what you told me in our last meeting."

Ned was refusing to look at Apollo, but he could reply.

"Oh. You mean that time you called me a jagoff or whatever and had the guards lock me up in solitary?"

Nick quirked an eyebrow and leaned towards Apollo. He had no knowledge of this.

"Apollo?" he whispered.

"Later." Apollo answered facetiously. He was going to keep his attention on Ned no matter what. "I have no control over your actions, Mr. Munny. But we're not here to discuss that. I'd like to ask you a question, first of all: where were you assigned to work the night of the murder?"

Ned remained silent for a good couple heartbeats.

"Bear with me here. Where were you assigned to work the night of the murder?" his attorney insisted.

"The Ohm Theater."

Ned's reply was clumsy, abrupt. Apollo's was exactly the opposite: swift and deliberate.

"That's interesting. According to our copy of your most recent contract, it says right here that you were working in the Great City Bank."

The suspect slammed his palms on the table. It was a loud and disconcerting noise that hardly fazed his counselors.

"_THEN WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME THESE QUESTIONS?_" he shrieked almost, his voice shrinking back to a whimper. "…What do you want from me?"

The chains of Ned's Psyche-Locks rattled and writhed violently, taking a life of their own as the security guard's poor lie was discovered. It would be the first of many.

"We only wanted to see if we could trust you." Apollo sighed. "Clearly we can't."

Apollo helped himself to a folder, swinging it open and checking at a glance that all the files were in order. Like a hunter smelling blood, he continued.

"You owe the Cadaverini mafia, particularly the Tender Lender, over a quarter of a million dollars… money that you took carelessly and could never pay to begin with. Now I know now that this is where it all began. I only had to go back to that time where you said you were being blackmailed; you were forced to cooperate with the mafia in exchange for your life and your wife's. Am I right thus far?"

Ned groaned again, his eyes ever so elusive. His silence became the attorney's answer.

"Good. The problem was… somehow they figured out you were a security guard, and that you were working at the Great City Bank. They saw an opportunity and forced you to cooperate; that means the Great City Bank heist was an inside job," Apollo pointed vigorously at his client. "and you were the mole!"

"Agh!"

The chains surrounding Ned were tense, taut. Some of the phantom links showed signs that they were about to split.

"You're insane, Justice! You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"I do now." Apollo retorted boldly, just as he was instructed. He slid several pictures across the table for Ned to see. "Look at these shots. They were taken the moment the heist was taking place. Do you see the timecode? Plus, the people you see in them have been identified as Cadaverini people."

Ned's eyes danced back and forth, from one photograph to the other. His breath was becoming audible, sickeningly so.

"That's ridiculous! How can you identify anyone here? These pictures are all blurry!"

Apollo stared holes into Ned's eyes for his next attack.

"You tell me, Mr. Munny! You're the one who told Alice Peabody that these were Cadaverini soldiers!"

"NOOO! –That's… you're setting me up! How could I figure that out? And I don't even know no Alice Peabody!"

A pulse radiated from Apollo's bracelet. He knew what to do.

"You're lying!" Apollo accused his client, presenting the victim file of his senior's case and the his suspect file. "You two live in the same apartment building!"

"Aaaaaargh!"

One of the Psyche-Locks finally gave in and exploded, the brilliance of the fragments causing Apollo to wince momentarily.

"I-is this supposed to happen?" he whispered to Phoenix.

"Yep. Now keep going."

Apollo couldn't. The third man in lobby No.3 spoke with renewed vitality.

"You can't be serious. You can't be!"

Seconds ago, Ned Munny was a shriveling, panicking joke of a man, but the threat of being exposed, the scent of the truth coming from this so-called attorney, forced his mind to trigger some kind of heightened survival instinct. His mind felt clear, his fear was gone and his motive was true. For Ahnette, for himself, for the sake of besting the world that had beaten him to his knees for almost three decades, he was done taking blows. Ned was going to stand up and fight.

"Mr. Munny?" asked Apollo.

"You just want to back me against the wall and force me to take a guilty plea! You don't know how to defend me, so you're doing this! Scumbags, the two of yous." Ned gritted his teeth. "I should've known."

Phoenix narrowed his eyes and exchanged a stone cold stare with Ned. For the first time since they met, the client wasn't flinching or backing away.

"This is when the real battle starts." he whispered to Apollo.

Apollo nodded and continued his attack.

"You say it can't be serious?"

"Of course, dammit!" Ned retorted in anger. "You think I offed this Alice girl just because I lived in the same building as her? Then everyone in that building is a suspect! Don't make me laugh."

_You wouldn't laugh if you saw all these locks around you, Ned._ thought Apollo.

"Then look at this list. Look at the very first name, to be precise."

The security guard furrowed his brow and picked up the sheet. A second later he was angrily wrinkling and crumpling it in his fists. What Ned didn't know was that the list had been duplicated and edited, so that his name appeared before all the others. It was a bluff and he had fallen for it.

"Those are the names of all of Alice Peabody's contacts, and yours is there." Apollo explained. "You were helping her! You were working right next door to Hotel Kohleefohnyah, the Great City Bank!"

Ned nearly swallowed his tongue, but he refused to budge.

"—Oh yeah? Helping her? Says who?"

"W-what?"

"If she's dead now, how do you know these are her informants?"

"Hurk! It was uh… her best friend? Like seriously. They've known each other since forever… and stuff." Apollo mumbled, realizing he had the tables turned on him.

It was smartly played. Without solid proof -like an address book for instance-, the attorneys' bluff became a meaningless piece of paper. Maybe the prosecution had procured more conclusive, incriminating evidence, but Apollo and Phoenix were not going to wait for that trial to happen. They had to gamble it all in the lobby. It was a matter of both pride and principle; neither of them could bring themselves to sit Ned Munny in the defendant's chair, under the guise of an innocent man!

"No! Wait!" Apollo interrupted, having regained his focus. "You just said the word _informant_! Not only did your hands tighten when you did that; I never claimed _those people were informants_!"

"Dammit!"

"There was indeed no way to know that the men in those pictures were Cadaverini thugs. In fact, you made a mistake and you accidentally revealed to Ms. Peabody who they were, because of your connection to the heist! And because of it, you had to tell the family what you'd done. Do you see it now? Those pictures are the motive she was murdered! They ordered you to kill her, didn't they?"

"Ack!"

Another Psyche-Lock burst, but then something went horribly awry. Apollo's blood suddenly felt like it boiled through every inch of his body like molten steel. It was a horrible, unpleasant sensation, the same he felt when…

"Dammit! Goddammit!" he started shouting.

Phoenix squeezed Apollo's arm. "Apollo! Hey! Calm down!"

"Don't you see it?" Apollo asked his mentor, his face stricken with grief, impotence and anger. He pointed at his client just like the worm he presently thought he was. "This scumbag is also the reason Detective Skye was almost killed!"

"Wh… It can't be!"

Meanwhile, the stubborn, desperate to survive Ned prepared for the attorneys' accusation. Apollo stood up, his eyes slits not unlike those of a snake.

"You somehow found out she had the pictures Alice showed you earlier, and you tipped that thug from last night to go get them!"

This time, strangely enough, Ned didn't react. Instead he smirked and met the attorney with an eerie glare.

"You know what? I'm actually willing to admit that much."

"Huh?"

Apollo looked at Ned, his mouth agape. Something wasn't right.

"Yep. I made a phone call, a little bit after your second visit." Ned's features twisted into something demonic, ready to savor the pain he was about to inflict. "How do you think I found out about your friend, lawyer boy?"

"How—"

Apollo lost all feeling on his feet and dropped limply on his chair. All the color on his face was gone, the paleness outlining the green and purple of his veins. He went back in time to the moment Ned alluded to and almost bit his tongue off.

_Detective Skye has the pictures of the Great City Bank heist! Seriously?*_

It had been so obvious, so cruelly obvious. The answer to how Ned Munny tipped off the mob about the pictures and Ema Skye was simple: it had been through the carelessness of his attorney.

"_God! Noooooooo!_" the attorney's forehead went down on the table like a hammer.

Phoenix was, to his advantage, slower to realize the implications of what Ned Munny had just revealed. This allowed him to take the magatama from Apollo's trembling hands and become the next adversary for the murder suspect. His heart went out to Apollo and whatever mistake he had made that apparently endangered Ema, but it was too late for hugs and comfort, too late to quit. The fight had to continue.

"You've been a good soldier, 'Pollo. Only you could get us this far."

Phoenix's hands shone with the dim green light of the magatama, his eyes becoming those of an avenger, a man ready to strike down Ned Munny's lies and bring him to justice.

"Now I'll take us to the very bottom of this, even if it kills me!"

* * *

><p><strong>Even after realizing our mistakes, we have no choice but to press forward. Now it's time for Ned to face the legendary attorney himself!<strong>

**Next chapter: Cornered Part II!**

_*As seen in Chapter 11_


	20. CORNERED Part II

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** You may want to play your favorite cornered/pursuit theme for this one.

Ned Munny! He's been a challenge, alright. I wanted to write an OC that would become central to the plot because of his involvement, not because of any particular traits. In short, I gave him the antagonist role while making sure not to take the spotlight away from the canon characters. I like to think I've done it right.

What strikes me as most interesting is how much people appear to hate him. He's an example not of a cold hearted villain, but of a man who made the wrong choices because it was _easier_. He's a criminal and he'll pay for what he's done, but is he any different from someone you're likely to meet at work, school or even your neighborhood? Think about it, folks.

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>This ain't no place for no hero,<em>

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no_ _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place for a Hero**

**Chapter 20 – CORNERED Part II**

_May 6, 7:46 AM_

_Defendant Lobby No.3_

_District Courthouse_

"You sure you don't wanna look after the kid? He looks like he got a real bad case of the blues."

Phoenix Wright heard Ned Munny, but he didn't _listen_. His attention had deviated briefly to Apollo Justice, another attorney at law –his partner- who had come to a very painful realization. Nonetheless, the senior attorney only had time –brief as it was- to check on him, but not to grieve.

"Alright!" Phoenix smacked his hands on the table. "That's enough. You and I… let's continue our talk, Ned."

Ned raised his eyebrows sardonically.

"No more Mr. Munny? Fine by me." he rolled his shoulders and crossed his arms. "Let's cut the bullshit."

Nick nodded and looked at the man's eyes, recognizing that wicked emptiness seen in those he had helped convict in the past.

Back in the good old days, people came from all walks of life to pat Phoenix on the back, to express their jealousy for the exciting, successful life a defense attorney had to live. It made him shake his head. What was _amazing_ about this? What was _exciting_? Crammed into a cold, lifeless room, forced to stare down the worst demons of the city while struggling so as not to break, not to be seduced. What was fantastic about having to stare into a killer's eyes and tell him the obvious, that he is lying?

It didn't matter. He was up for the job, due to no simpler fact that life, with its many hard knocks, had molded him into this man, a man who yearned to pursue the truth above all else.

Phoenix opened his eyes and broke his silence.

"You tipped off the Cadaverinis, didn't you?"

Ned snorted loudly, clearly. He wanted to be heard while reveling in his haughtiness.

"What do you think I am, some kind of idiot? I only pointed out that your monkey boy here sure ran his mouth carelessly. Just look at what happened."

Apollo stirred, but only momentarily.

_Your chance will come_, thought Phoenix, hoping that somehow Apollo would hear him. Meanwhile, he had the perfect reply for Ned.

"Yeah. After all, it would be pretty dumb to try and win the favor of the people who are already out to kill you."

"Wh-?"

"You're a wanted man as far as the mob cares, Ned." Nick said calmly, fully knowing the weight of his words. "Don't forget that."

Ned bared all of his teeth like a rabid dog, his skin turning red. "You piece of shit! _I TOLD YOU I DIDN'T KILL VIOLA!_"

Phoenix's eye twitched, but not because of the loud and crass banter. An idea struck his mind just like thunder.

"That's funny."

"What the hell is?"

Nick made a thoughtful noise.

"You're not denying that you killed anybody. You're only saying you _didn't kill Viola_. You've been like this since you were arrested."

Ned rolled his eyes, but in fact did so to hide the shock.

"You've got to be kidding me…"

"Actually, no." Phoenix smiled and reclined enough to undo his vest. "I've always been bad at telling jokes."

"Yeah, it shows."

"But I've always been great at telling the truth, Ned." he grinned triumphantly. "After all, what kind of a stir do you think it's going to cause if you're convicted for killing a photographer? That's just peanuts. But a mob boss? Sheesh. That's a whole new ball game, bud."

"That's a lie!" Ned replied, planting his fists on the table. "You two already know it!"

"Yes, but I don't think a whole day's deliberation will be enough to get you completely off the hook. It's how it works with most homicide cases: new evidence comes up, the judge rules it impossible to continue until it's further inspected and court is adjourned until the next day. But I don't think you'll be alive by then, y'know?" Phoenix looked at his fingernails. "That's how the mob is. They like things done _fast_."

"What do you know about the mob, you shithead?"

Ned was getting desperate, walking in circles. If things were really in Phoenix's favor, perhaps it was time to enter the real endgame.

"Yeah! What do I know about the mob? About this much: they move guns under the table." Nick laced his fingers together and leaned forward. His tone was jarringly calm. "Do you know how hard it is to get a piece here without a license? Tell me about it! I'm a lawyer!"

The suspect didn't say a thing. The attorney saw it as an opportunity to press forward.

"But then, it _is_ kind of strange that an illegal gun _with_ _your prints_ was used to kill Viola, considering that you also tipped the mob off about Detective Skye and nearly got her killed."

Ned sighed. "Look at you going on with that again."

"No. He's right. It doesn't fit, Ned."

Apollo looked worse for wear, but he straightened himself and looked at his client with a detached sense of loathing.

"Remember back when we first talked. You were waiting for another attorney."

The younger attorney stood up, driven forward by the deduction he had made.

"That's it! You were waiting for the Cadaverinis to come and represent you!"

Ned stammered, but he wouldn't let up.

"H-How stupid can you be, dammit! Why am I going to expect that the people I supposedly screwed will come and help me?"

Phoenix and Apollo stared Ned down, both figures looming over him like great, angry executioners. They began to whisper to each other.

"He's right, Mr. Wright. That's ridiculous."

_Ridiculous._

The whole room felt like it sank for Nick. Suddenly, his heart was stuck right in his throat.

"Follow me on this, Apollo."

"What?"

"Just do it!"

They split, Phoenix beginning to circle around Ned.

"Exactly. You're _exactly right_, Ned. You couldn't have waited for the Cadaverinis to come help you… not under normal circumstances."

"What… what do you mean?"

Apollo made that same question with just the look in his eyes.

"The mob's like that. Sometimes, even though you have a whole family, a whole unit… A and B don't get along. They are not pulling their weight equally, so brushes take place. _Conflicts happen_. Obviously this is bad for business, because you're putting up a weak front for all of your enemies… but sometimes it just has to boil over, right? The mob even has a word for something like that, a war to get rid of all the bad blood: _la faida_."

"No." Ned snarled. "Shut up."

Phoenix stood next to the suspect and lowered himself so that their faces were meeting at the same level. "Want me to cut the crap then?"

"Yes!" Ned challenged him, but also pleaded. "Go ahead! Come on! Tell me!"

"You wound up in the middle of it all, Ned! You became a pawn in this internal war!" Nick began to accuse him, forward, bold and strong. "You told Viola about the pictures Alice Peabody took, and she made you kill her and take the pictures! She probably –I don't know- told you to dispose of the gun someplace and promised to erase all the tracks for you. And you were desperate enough to believe it! And since you had no idea about the conflict in the family, you still believed they would come and help you!"

"AaaaaaaaaaaaArghn!"

"But that's not all! The moment you ditched the gun, somebody picked it up! It was someone who was supposed to make it disappear, someone who knew the place where the dropoff was going to happen."

"!"

"Then they used the gun with your fingerprints, the one you ditched, to kill Viola! You silenced Alice and they said thanks by framing you!"

"Noooooooooooooooo!"

"**Say it, Ned! Tell us you did it!**"

Ned stared back at Phoenix with the ferocity of a beast… but then his face started to turn blue and his eyes to bug out. He began clawing at his throat, as if something or someone were choking him. Nick looked at the bottle of water in front of him. He could only think of the worst.

"Poiso-NO!"

Nick began to panic. They couldn't lose Ned now! But then Apollo rushed to his side and squeezed his shoulder, trying to bring his attention towards something very important.

"It's not poison. Look!"

Phoenix's senses sharpened from the effects of the magatama, the ringing of chains and locks running through his ears. His eyes opened to the sight of Ned Munny struggling against thick rusted links, coiling and twisting around his neck like an anaconda ready to kill. The chains of the Psyche-Locks were choking him; his denial of the truth and his fervent desire to lock his heart away were turning against him.

This was the worst case scenario. If Ned Munny died, everything was over. With no real, provable murderer, Lotta would do Ned's time and probably die in prison. There would be no justice for Alice Peabody, and the cruel scheme of the mob would have ended in a splendid checkmate. All the tears cried and the blood spilled up to that point would've been for naught.

"Ned! Come on!" Apollo urged him. "There's nothing for you to lose now, but what if they go after your wife? What if the Cadaverinis try to kill Ahnette?"

Ned strained, wheezing and fighting for every breath. "Says… says who? They won't…! They won't!"

"They'll erase you, Ned! They'll erase you and your family!"

"Ghhkkn…!"

"NED!"

"I didn't kill… Alice…"

Phoenix rubbed his hands and knew what had to be done.

"Set him free, Apollo."

"W-what? But he's a criminal! He'll escape!"

Nick smacked his forehead. "No, moron! Tell him the truth! Prove him beyond any reasonable doubt that he's the one who killed Alice!"

Apollo heard this and immediately shifted gears, recovering his usual form. He felt he had an obligation to the memory of a poor celebrity photographer, to justice, but also to a man who somewhere down the line had lost his way.

"It's over, Ned! We got the gun, we got your motive and lastly… opportunity."

Apollo did his best to remain steady, or as steady as anyone can be upon seeing someone choked by the embodiment of their own moral conflict. In the meantime, Ned continued writhing and coughing for air. It was a brutal and miserable display, one that didn't incite any kind of catharsis in the attorneys, two men who had come close to harbor a personal intense hatred against this man. Now they just wanted to see it end.

"Alice knew you, Ned. That's how you could enter her apartment without having to force the lock. Once you got in, it was as simple as holding her at gunpoint, getting the pictures and doing the deed… but somehow, at some point, you got scared. Alice barely knew what was going on when you blasted her point blank. You didn't even do what you were told right: you killed her and in your panic you forgot about the pictures! That's why you had to tip the mob off and nearly kill Detective Skye, because your job wasn't over! If you didn't give them those pictures then they would really kill you!"

The final Psyche-Lock rattled and broke in time, the spiritual chains coming loose and hanging off Ned's shoulders like the weight he had finally shed. The inertia eventually made them dangle and drop on the floor, shattering in the darkness like fragments of a mirror.

Ned Munny let out one last howl of pain, regret and sadness before losing consciousness, his body slumping forward onto the table to follow a deep sleep, thankfully not an eternal one.

Phoenix and Apollo nearly buckled from the exhaustion and the elation of a battle thoroughly won.

It was over. _It was finally over._

* * *

><p><strong>Truth prevails at last!<strong>

**Next chapter: It's not over yet. The second stage of Phoenix's plan is revealed! Apollo confronts Klavier?**


	21. A Stupid World

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** It's another character developing chapter! And even though it's so far into the story, it's one of my favorites. You get to see all four main characters (and the OC murder suspect) act in a situation where they easily settle into their roles. We see an intelligent, conceited Edgeworth; a sarcastic and mature Phoenix; a hot-headed and confused Apollo; a somewhat carefree but responsible Klavier. They're all there, confused, angry, but most of all tired, just like Ned Munny, of "all the fighting, the killing and the lying".

So really, what else is there to write about now that the main conflict of the story has been resolved? I suppose you have to stick around and find out for yourselves! I promise you a couple more surprises, intensity and twists for the upcoming finale of this project I've come to enjoy so much.

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>This ain't no place for no hero,<em>

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no_ _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place for a Hero**

**Chapter 21 – A Stupid World**

_May 6, 7:52 AM_

_Defendant Lobby No.3_

_District Courthouse_

"Hey, Edgeworth. Glad you could make it."

"I wouldn't have missed this for the world, Wright; although I am usually the one who makes people squeal like butchered pigs."

"Oh? Are you taking pride in that now?"

"Heh! The pot calling the kettle black. –wait. What's the matter with Justice's eye?"

"…long story, Mr. Edgeworth. Long story."

For all Ned Munny cared, he was hearing ghosts. They were supposed to be communicating with one another, but their chatter was no different than laughter, spirits laughing at his broken pride, the acceptance of his worst mistake. As the ghosts in the room finally took the shape of people, he remembered passing out after hearing a blood-curdling scream, a scream that had been his.

The unfortunate guard coughed a dry cough and straightened himself, suddenly feeling a wet, reeking smear over his cheek; he had drooled while unconscious, _just like some kind of inbred monster_, he thought. Given the horrible things he had done –regardless of the motive-, that's probably what he was.

Phoenix Wright greeted the murderer while he wiped his face with his shirt.

"Welcome back." the attorney said plainly.

Ned failed to interpret that tone as resentful and only grunted in response. Meanwhile, the other two attorneys in the room, Apollo Justice and some guy doing Victorian cosplay, silently looked on. The latter then decided to introduce himself.

"Greetings, Mr. Munny. My name is Miles Edgeworth. I'm the prosecutor in charge of Alice's Peabody's murder case."

Edgeworth was polite enough, but he didn't offer a handshake. Ned wouldn't have responded anyhow; he was handcuffed and his hands were dirty with spit.

The prosecutor cleared his throat a little and eyeballed the two defense attorneys.

"Am I to understand that you have spoken with your defense counselors?"

Ned's insides turned like the knob on a door, the resulting emotional pain being just as sharp. He could only do so much to escape the truth of what he had done.

His voice came out exhausted: "Yeah. I have."

"Good." Edgeworth nodded. His voice and demeanor were professional and procedural. Ned might as well have been talking to a computer. "Are you ready to write an affidavit confessing to all of your crimes, such as your participation in the bank heist, your participation in a conspiracy to murder an officer of the law, obstruction of justice and the murder charge itself?"

Ned had no rebuttal against that list of crimes. Not anymore. He was tired, so very tired of the fighting, the killing and the lying.

"Yeah. Whatever. I'll sign any papers you want."

Edgeworth turned to face the defense attorneys. All three huddled momentarily.

"Have you told this man the benefits of confessing to his crime?" the prosecutor asked.

Apollo rolled his visible eye. "I…"

Phoenix smirked and looked away nervously.

The frilly prosecutor suddenly felt like taking both of these men's heads and smashing them together like coconuts.

"You imbeciles! Did you just badger this man until he snapped? Are you no better than schoolyard bullies?"

Nick shrugged candidly. "He started it?"

"One day I swear you'll make me blow a gasket, Wright…"

Ned quirked an eyebrow. "Is everything alright over there?"

"—Yes." the prosecutor turned immediately, although he glanced back at the defense counselors with some kind of unspoken death wish. He tugged at his cravat and held his hands on his back. "On behalf of the state and the judge you will soon be facing, I would like to extend my gratitude for your cooperation. While your crimes are indeed heinous and worthy of capital punishment, your admission of responsibility remains nonetheless commendable."

"Huh?"

Edgeworth stammered. "Y-yes? What is it?"

"English, buddy." Ned leaned forward. "Can you speak it for me?"

Apollo and Phoenix both held back a fit of laughter, the older attorney mouthing the words "_Now __you__ deal with him_" at Edgeworth. The prosecutor made a face –more like a scowl, actually- to hide his embarrassment before continuing.

"…of course. In exchange for your confession, the prosecutor's office is willing to accommodate a determined number of privileges regarding your sentence."

"So it's a plea bargain. You should've started there." Ned replied, losing any enthusiasm in his voice (if that was possible at this rate). "There ain't much you can do for me now, tho'. Hanged or not, I'm as good as dead the second I step in prison."

"Don't jump to conclusions yet." Edgeworth showed Ned a haughty smirk. "The prosecution will not object to the acquittal of your original murder charge; thus you will be cleared of any and all suspicion regarding the killing of Viola Cadaverini. Is that not good enough?"

Ned blinked. It made sense. _Almost_.

"Wait. Then what about the bank heist deal? What about that detective girl?"

Apollo flinched from afar. That was still a fresh wound.

"If you cooperate with the organized crime bureau and give us the names of those who participated in both operations," Edgeworth explained. "we will ensure your safety as well as your family's. Likewise, we will make sure to place you in a maximum security wing. No harm shall come to you under our watch."

Really? It couldn't be that good. Ned kept thinking about it. There had to be an angle there, a catch. Something.

And there was. Edgeworth next statement made it clear. His voice was stern, cold, unfeeling.

"I would like to make it clear, Mr. Munny, that this state is not one to go soft on _killers_. You will be awarded no less than capital punishment for your crimes. You will be forced to serve a sentence of no less than twenty five years with no right to an appeal, but I will personally see to it that the minister of justice foregoes signing your execution. Once your mandatory time is up…" Edgeworth breathed a deep sigh. "the prosecution will not object to a request for parole. We do not condone murder in any form, or for any reason, but upon reviewing your case and the circumstances in which the crime was committed, I am personally willing to concede to the fact that you were not of sound mind at the time you murdered Ms. Peabody."

Ned's face turned peaceful. He wasn't feeling comfortable being handled all these privileges without being reminded, funnily enough, that he was scum. Scum had to go to prison and be miserable.

"Okay." he said. "Bring me a paper and a pen and I'll write whatever you need."

"Fair enough. My assistant will come shortly to talk you through the proceedings before we go to court. Until then, let's get that affidavit and wait for your original prosecutor to review it." Edgeworth signaled Apollo with his chin. "Justice?"

Apollo was across the room, resting his back on the wall while shooting daggers at Ned with just one eye. The fact that he was wearing the medical eyepatch made his stare that more menacing.

The prosecutor called his name again.

"Coming." he answered drolly. He walked over to his satchel and quickly procured the items Ned requested. The young attorney stormed out of the room as soon as they changed hands.

Edgeworth placed the red pen and legal pad in front of Ned Munny while his eyes traced the Apollo's sudden exit. Phoenix was right behind him, cautiously following.

"I'll be right back, Miles." he said before closing the door right behind him.

The prosecutor understood that both partners had something important to discuss and asked no further questions. Instead, he left them to their business.

* * *

><p><em>May 6, 7:58 AM<em>

_Second Floor Hallway_

_District Courthouse_

Klavier Gavin walked towards Defendant's Lobby No.3 with some documents in tow, all carried neatly under his arm. He wasn't humming a tune nor carrying his usual friendly disposition. In so many words, he was in a terrible mood. His latest case had taken a turn for the worst; last night he almost lost one of his best detectives, even if Ema Skye didn't believe that much herself. And for the first time since their professional relationship began, the prosecuting rockstar wondered if he was to blame for that.

Just as soon as this sobering thought struck his mind, a clearly upset Apollo Justice nearly burst out of the defendant lobbies. He was headed straight towards Prosecutor Gavin.

"I gotta talk to you, Klavier."

Klavier rolled his tongue against his gums. He didn't like the tone Apollo was taking with him.

"What's with the eye, Herr Forehead?"

"Nevermind the eye." then Apollo said: "Answer my question."

"No guten tag? No friendly greeting?"

Apollo insisted. "Drop the crap! I said answer my question!"

Klavier chuckled. "What question? You haven't asked anything!"

Phoenix Wright was hot on Apollo's tail, and he had arrived to the confrontation just in the nick of time it appeared. He sensed the budding hostility between the two young men and kept them apart with the full length of his arms.

"Alright. That's enough, both of you. You're not thinking straight. I say we chill out."

"No. I'm good." Apollo said in a calmer voice, gently removing Phoenix's hand away from his chest. He ignored his senior and went straight to the point. "Did you know all this time?"

"What? Excuse me?"

"Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't know Ned Munny was guilty of murder."

Phoenix huffed in exasperation. "Oh, for the love of—"

"It's my job to find people guilty… Herr Justice. It's my job to suspect them." Klavier furrowed his youthful brow into a seldom seen frown. Then he took an invasive step forward. "You should know that better than anyone. Or are you telling me I intentionally risked a valuable member of our police force based on a hunch, because I clearly don't do my job well enough?"

"You knew about the loan contracts way before I did!" Apollo pointed accusatorily. "You knew about Ned Munny and the Cadaverinis! You could've done something!"

Klavier's nostrils flared and his eyes were open wide, but Phoenix interceded before things got _really_ out of hand.

"Come on, Apollo! That's enough!" then he signaled the prosecutor. "You too, Klavier. You need to see Edgeworth, don't you?"

Klavier had no ears for Phoenix. He stood still as a statue, staring right at Apollo, or through him.

"Don't you?" Phoenix repeated.

Moments later, Klavier Gavin headed straight into the defendant's lobby Apollo had just left, walking a strong, upset gait. Both defense attorneys were now left alone in the hallway, observed closely by the bailiff keeping watch there. He would have stepped in had things escalated further.

Phoenix watched Apollo as he slumped on a bench close to a snack machine.

"Apollo…" he commenced, gesturing towards the lobby with both hands. "what the hell was that? What did Klavier do to deserve it?"

"Nothing, okay!" Apollo admitted in a fit of frustration. "He did nothing. He didn't deserve it. I'll apologize to him later, when he's not pissed anymore."

Nick rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"We talked about this last night, Apollo. I thought we had accepted the fact that none of us could have seen this coming. Not you, not me, Edgeworth or Klavier."

"Yeah. We did." Apollo furrowed his brow and his voice broke a little. "But that was before realizing I almost got Detective Skye killed, okay? Jesus!"

Phoenix sighed, sympathizing with Apollo's plight.

"Look, Apollo." he said as he joined him in the bench. "The one thing you are guilty of is believing in your client. You did what you were supposed to as a defense attorney."

"And I almost got a friend killed because of it."

"But you didn't make the phone call, alright? You didn't call the hit on Ema." Phoenix retorted immediately, using the detective's first name for emphasis, perhaps. "And that's enough. That's the last I want to hear about it from you. Okay?"

"…Yeah, okay."

Phoenix gave himself a minute to relax, a moment he hoped Apollo would take advantage of as well.

"Look." said the older attorney. "Remember last night, when I talked to you about learning what it meant to truly defend someone?"

Apollo nodded, lazily fixing the eyepatch.

"I'm afraid this is it." Phoenix pronounced unceremoniously. "Even if your client is guilty, and you know in your heart that this is true, it's your job to defend him… to save him from himself. Ned had to come to terms with what he had done, Apollo, or he wouldn't have been able to live with himself; even worse, he'd have done it again and again, non-stop. You saved him from a kind of darkness a lot of people meet but seldom escape from."

The younger attorney threw his head back and closed his eyes, as if shifting positions would help him digest the bittersweet truth.

"Do you understand that, 'Pollo?"

Apollo sighed.

"Not really."

Phoenix smirked and gave him two friendly pats on the knee.

"You'll get there. And when you do, you're gonna be great. You're gonna be the best, you hear?"

_At least you'll get farther than I did_, was Phoenix Wright's sentiment that precise moment.

Apollo slid two fingers underneath his patch and began to rub at his eye. It continued to hurt pretty bad.

"What a stupid world." he thought out loud, with a dry sense of humor not unlike his boss'.

* * *

><p><strong>A stupid world, indeed. However, the attorneys know it is still worth fighting for!<strong>

**Next chapter: The trial of Ned Munny! One final, dramatic twist awaits!**


	22. The Final Joke

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** I was supposed to tell you folks this last chapter, but I was in such a hurry to revise and post it that I absolutely forgot. It turns out that I have more than five thousand views for this novella/fic! Surely there are projects with a bigger audience out there, but this remains a personal milestone that I never thought I'd accomplish. Thus, I'd like to thank all of you who have been reading, writing reviews and motivating me to get this far. This means a lot more to me than you can imagine.

And what do you know? There's finally a trial in this fic! Short as it is, I think I did well enough to convey the humor and the intensity of what can happen in an Ace Attorney courtroom.

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>This ain't no place for no hero,<em>

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no_ _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place for a Hero**

**Chapter 22 – The Final Joke**

_May 6, 8:06 AM_

_District Courthouse_

_Courtroom No.2_

The courtroom was abuzz with gossip and chatter, the music of an audience that was –rightfully so- staring at a very unique sight. Law students, relatives of the victims and other people in the auditorium were, after all, looking at two prosecutors and two defense attorneys facing off. Phoenix Wright, Apollo Justice, Miles Edgeworth and Klavier Gavin were behind their respective benches, taking part in a scene that looked straight out of a Western, with both outlaw gangs about to draw.

This was also historical from a legal standpoint. Even the good old nameless judge quirked an eyebrow while looking down at this scene, a hand carefully combing through his elder beard. The whole world beneath him looked so far away, yet he had never let the feeling cloud his judgment or kind heart.

"Hoho. I admit that in my many years sitting in this side of the courtroom, it's not very often that I get to see this. What a unique moment!" he said in an excited voice. "I wonder if someone will be taking pictures. Does my beard look good?"

Apollo had an impatient look in his eye. He drummed his fingers on the wood of the defendant's bench.

"—yes, sir. Yes, it does. But I don't think you can take pictures in a courtroom."

"Hohum. I suppose you are correct, Mr. Justice." the Judge smacked his gavel on his hand. "By the way, I've been meaning to ask…"

_Here it goes…_, thought the younger attorney.

"What is wrong with your eye?"

Apollo sighed.

"It's nothing, your Honor."

"Do you mean that?"

"Yep."

The judge shook his head. "I'm forced to insist. Are you really qualified to defend your client today?"

"What? Of course! I mean, I just got punched in the face." Apollo crossed his arms indignantly. "It's not like I got dumberer! I meant dumber. –Oh, you know what I meant."

A loud "_Objection!_" then cut through the stillness of the courtroom like a sharp knife. Miles Edgeworth slammed an open hand on the prosecutor's bench across from the defense. It looked like he was about to have a coronary.

"_Relevance_, your Honor?"

But the judge wasn't answering. He was clutching at his head and staring at the wine red prosecutor like he had just shot him in the leg.

"…your Honor? Sir?"

"Blast you people! Why do you have to be so loud?"

Phoenix chuckled, always one to find humor in the least likely moments.

"With all due respect, your Honor, that was pretty tame in the Edgeworth-o-meter."

Klavier Gavin's shoulders shook as he held back a good laugh.

Meanwhile, having recovered, the Judge straightened his robes. He still had nothing but stinky looks for Edgeworth, but after making a contemplative noise, he reopened his eyes, as if struck by a revelation.

"Oh yes! I forgot I got my new hearing aids yesterday. They even come in my favorite color! They are so cute. Here. I'll let you take a look."

The old, wise and goofy man took out two small devices from his ears, previously hidden by the thickness of his beard. Phoenix Wright looked at him and began to whisper from very far –the defendant's bench in fact-, quite the inappropriate thing to do considering his Honor was so high up. Then the attorney started playing some weird charades.

The judge tilted his head and finally realized what was going on: in his excitement he forgot to put the hearing aids back on.

"Oh! My bad. In any case, I would greatly appreciate it if you boys kept it down."

Klavier smiled and snapped his fingers. "Ja. It's doable."

Edgeworth clenched his teeth, his whole upper body leaning over his bench as if to contain some kind of wicked venomous energy surging within him. "…Can we move on from this ridiculous tangent and continue with the trial? _Please_?"

"Of course! I had almost forgotten! We're in court, aren't we?"

Apollo took a glance at his mentor. "The judge's really shining today, huh? I wonder if we should tell him all the crap that happened last night."

"Nah. Save it."

As both parties –prosecution and defense- continued to whisper back and forth, the judge opened a file he had been handed by the bailiff. Any signs of his silly, cheery self were gone the second he laid eyes on it. He was done reading a matter of seconds later, taking every bit of information in record time.

"Very well. Order!" he said, smacking his gavel twice and then lacing his fingers. "All four attorneys in this court have presented a motion requesting the following: the suspect in Prosecutor Gavin's case is to be reindicted for the murder of the victim in Prosecutor Edgeworth's case. Am I right thus far?"

"Ja."

"Indeed, your Honor."

"That's right, your Honor."

"Yes, your Honor."

The courtroom's audience was stirred into a small frenzy. The judge called for order once more and ran a hand over his shining bald head.

"That's quite the mind-boggling development! And that's a mind-boggling request, to boot!"

Apollo nodded. "It's a complicated case, your Honor."

"It's to be expected of a murder tied to organized crime." Edgeworth pointed out. "But you will see upon further inspection and the development of this trial that this is the right direction to take."

"It's done in the interest of justice." added Klavier.

"I see. Your argument in particular, Mr. Edgeworth, seems very sound." the judge observed. "Let's begin then! Are the defense and prosecution ready?"

All four attorneys gave a positive answer.

"Then, we are to go on record for the Jurists witnessing this trial:" the judge cleared his throat and looked straight at the camera filming the proceedings. "Alice Peabody is to be indicted for the murder of Lotta Hart; on the other hand, the murder investigation into the case of Ned Munny's murder is still ongoing. Viola Cadaverini is thus cleared of all charges and free to go."

Apollo, Nick, Edgeworth and Klavier all gave an almost simultaneous facepalm.

"Mind running that by us again, Herr Judge?" the rockstar prosecutor bemusedly asked. "Make sure to read carefully this time."

The judge cleared his throat and tried to skim the court record without being noticed. The beard did a great job hiding his embarrassment.

"Oh! Oh dear. Yes. I repeat: Ned Munny is to be reindicted for the murder of Alice Peabody; the investigation of Viola Cadaverini's murder is open and ongoing. Ned Munny, on the other hand, is cleared of his original charge and Lotta Hart is free to go. Will Lotta Hart please rise?"

It was time for Phoenix to intercede.

"She's not present, your Honor, but she's already on her way. With your permission, I'd like to welcome her to the courthouse with the good news. I mean… seeing that my client has been cleared of all charges, I don't think you'd require my presence here any longer. Am I wrong?"

His Honor reclined a little and inspected Phoenix with careful, wise eyes.

"You're in fact right, Mr. Wright. Then all that is left is to make the motion official."

The judge smacked his gavel next.

"The newly instated murder charge against Ned Munny for the murder of Alice Peabody will be prosecuted by Mr. Edgeworth. Mr. Justice will be sitting at the defendant's bench."

"Wunderbar, Herr Judge." Klavier praised, clapping three times. "I will make sure to come visit you soon, with a new suspect for Fraulein Cadaverini's murder."

The judge nodded in approval. "Prosecutor Klavier Gavin and Phoenix Wright are now excused from this court and this trial. Have a good morning, gentlemen." he pronounced in an official tone, with both men beginning to take their leave.

"Remember, Apollo. It's time to _really_ defend your client." Phoenix said in one final whisper.

"I better believe that, huh?" Apollo answered, repositioning his medical eyepatch.

Meanwhile, across from the defense, the two prosecuting attorneys were having a totally different conversation.

"You're doing the right thing, Herr Edgeworth. Just keep your eye on Justice. I'm sure you've seen that his fuse has been rather short as of late, ja?"

"Hmph. In the words of my 'big sister':" Edgeworth cleared his throat. "only a foolish fool would let personal issues cloud his performance in the courtroom. Be at ease, Mr. Gavin."

Phoenix and Klavier bowed respectfully at the judge and began to exit the courtroom, but the latter approached his colleague to share a couple words with him.

"Say, Herr Wright, what did you feed your golden boy with this time? He seems awfully energetic."

"I guess knuckle sandwich." was Nick's answer.

With both men finally gone, the trial continued. The judge flipped through the pages of the court record and put his finger over the name of the case's suspect, so that he wouldn't miss it again.

"Bring Ned Munny to this courtroom, bailiff."

"Uh, your Honor?"

"Yes, Mr. Justice?"

The young defense attorney waved his hand in the air and signaled the man next to him. "Mr. Munny has been here this whole time."

"Oh! Oh, good heavens."

Ned smirked and scratched his wrist. It had been like this since he could remember: never standing out, always overlooked. He was no unfunny clown, TV action star, international rock idol or a famous thief. He was just a security guard mired in debt, another nobody from the city's stuffed, diseased gut.

"Don't sweat the small stuff, your Honor." he said with resignation.

The judge continued, not before checking if he was indeed sweating. "Are the defense and prosecution ready to give their opening statements?"

"The prosecution has been ready for some time, your Honor."

"Yes, your Honor!" replied Apollo. He faced his client, his voice lowering a little. "I'm afraid this is it, Ned."

"Oh. You mean I have to stand up now?"

"Nah. Wait for the judge to call you."

Ned remained seated, although he exhaled deep and hard. "Hey, Apollo."

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry, kid. I'm sorry about everything."

Apollo nibbled on his lower lip to keep from replying compulsively. He hated this man, but those words were the most sincere thing he had said since they met almost twenty four hours ago.

"It's okay, Ned. That's why you'll be doing time, to pay for all you've done." he sighed. "That's the best apology you can offer me, but I'm not sure if I'm an asshole because of it."

Both men then shared a quiet, fatigued chuckle. This last stretch of their lives had been such a long and arduous one. They only wanted it to bring it to a proper closure.

Edgeworth gave Apollo one last reassuring nod before interrupting the judge.

"Instead of an opening statement, Your Honor, the prosecution sees it mandatory to inform you that we have spoken with the defense prior to this trial. Over the course of the late hours of last night and today's early morning, new evidence has come to light that indicates a conclusive interpretation of the facts, even without the need of a court deliberation."

"I see. Go on."

Edgeworth crossed his arms. "Mr. Justice?"

Apollo glanced back at Ned for what he guessed was probably the last time.

"The defense…"

The attorney choked slightly. He hadn't prepared at all to take this step. Suddenly it felt like all he had done for the past hour was nod his head and play lawyer. It was so hard, so difficult to be the one to deliver a man to hard, unforgiving justice.

"The defense pleads guilty to the count of murder in the first degree, your Honor!"

The witnessing crowd exploded into a chaotic rumbling, but one voice came through clearer than all the others. It was close to the defendant's bench. It was right behind it.

"_What? Ned! What are they saying? Ned!_"

The judge smacked his gavel. "Order! Order in the courtroom!"

"Dammit. No…" Ned lamented, holding his hands against his face. Even without the handcuffs, he was feeling the weight of the chains. "Was that my wife, Apollo? Was that Ahnette?"

Apollo glanced backwards briefly, quickly averting his gaze from the truth as if it was a grizzly sight.

"Y-yeah."

Ned sighed, his breathing breaking into a sob.

"I can't do it. Don't make me do this in front of my wife, please…"

Miles Edgeworth had continued speaking by then.

"You can read the official, signed affidavit in the annex section of your court record, your Honor. The defendant has been already informed of the benefits of his admission of guilt—"

"—_Admission? Guilt? Ned! Darling, what is going on?_"

"Get Ahnette out of here!" Ned lowered his head as if to stay away from his wife's sight. "I'm begging you."

Apollo looked on, his guts twisting and turning. There was _nothing_ he could do. An attorney didn't have that kind of power in the courtroom.

Edgeworth tapped his finger impatiently and resumed giving his statement.

"…benefits such as leniency in his sentence, that of imprisonment for twenty-five years with a chance for parole; the state is, in conclusion, willing to abstain from the death penalty this time. The prosecution has only accepted this condition in exchange for not only a signed confession, but also the defendant's cooperation in an investigation that is not to be disclosed publicly yet. This measure has been taken for his safety, his wife's and that of their incoming child."

Ned sobbed openly, the savage mirth of karma twisting his whimpering into a half-giggle.

"_Incoming child_? What? You're kidding. Hahaha."

Edgeworth felt his stomach hollowing out at this terrible development. He tried to regain his composure, realizing the extent of his blunder. Still, the prosecutor looked more and more crestfallen as he witnessed the sight of Ahnette Munny crying and her husband slowly evidencing signs of a deep nervous breakdown. Apollo did his part in trying to help, but as he squeezed his client's arm, his own hand was visibly shaking.

"C-Calm down, Ned." he said, knowing his words were useless.

"You're kidding! _Tell me you're kidding!_"

"Honey, what have you done?" Ahnette cried from a distance, clutching at her shoulders. "Why?"

"Order in the court! Young lady, if you do not settle down, I will have to remove you from this courtroom!"

A sobbing, battered and bruised heap, Ned Munny jumped over the defendant's bench and walked backwards to face the woman he loved. That much had to be true about his life.

"Baby," he asked in a trembling tone. "are they telling the truth? Say it ain't so. Tell me it's all a joke, okay? I'll understand. I'm done listening to them, yeah?"

"Return to your bench at once, young man!"

"Shut UP!"

The judge shrank and coughed a little.

"—yes. As I said, you may speak with your wife."

Ahnette Munny rose from the crowd like an angel in a field of insects. The pain she was going through made some wonder if she wasn't the true victim in this catastrophe.

The young wife brushed a lock from her face, battling the urge to wail as she spoke to her husband.

"…I'm pregnant, Ned. I'll be around one month old soon, but I didn't wanna tell you because I thought I'd jinx it. It looks… like we finally did it this time."

Those last words were meant to be fantastic news, but they were no different from another stake through Ned Munny's heart, the guillotine's blade lopping his head clean off. The suspect, finding out he was a soon to be father, turned slowly towards Miles Edgeworth, his feet dragging on the ground as if they were made of heavy concrete.

The prosecutor couldn't hold it any longer. He took a deep breath and bowed his head.

"That's not funny, Mr. Edgeworth."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Munny." Edgeworth apologized, even the spit in his mouth tasting bitter. "I thought you'd—"

"Come on! Hahaha!"

"I'm sorry! Words can't express—"

"_I SAID IT'S NOT FUNNY! IT'S NOT—_"

Ned Munny appeared to choke on his words. His ears rolled into his skull and he dropped limply onto the ground, the only evidence of weight in his body being the thud his fall produced. It was as if he had been struck by an invisible, vengeful bolt of lightning.

"Honey! NO!"

"Mr. Munny!"

"Good God!" The judge rose from his seat and urged the bailiff: "Get the doctor, quick!"

"Ned!" cried Apollo.

He rolled over the bench and rushed to his client's side. He was no medic, but he had taken some first aid courses in college for good measure. The diagnostic wasn't the least bit heartening and his tone made it clear.

"…Oh, no. I think he's having a heart attack. Somebody hurry with that doctor! Is there one in the audience?"

Nobody moved to answer Apollo's plight. Even if there were doctors in their midst, they wouldn't have thought about coming down. The reason was obvious: all eyes were fixated on the felled man sprawled right in the middle of the courtroom. Some were afraid, others were awestruck, a distinct few were morbidly curious to see a man die before them; but it made no difference, for he was a murderer after all. To them it looked like a sudden but fitting closure to a tragedy that existed beyond the four walls of that courtroom.

Ned Munny dies to atone for Alice Peabody's murder. It made sense. From the stands it looked like things coming full-circle, an even, fair exchange, the gears of the universe turning to bring about some sort of wise, ultimate balance. It didn't matter.

However, his fate concerned the attorneys who had fought tooth and nail to reach the truth and make him face it. For the sake of his wife, his child and the woman whose murder he had yet to answer for, he couldn't leave this world! They couldn't let him take the easy way out! They would desperately cling onto him, for they were neither executioners nor gods to hold sway over a man's permanence in life. Such powers and decisions were not in their hands, but if they had to, they would bite even God's hand to bring Ned Munny to justice!

* * *

><p><strong>Will destiny allow Ned Munny to pay for his crimes?<strong>

**Next chapter: Another bittersweet moment before the grand finale! Two more chapters and an epilogue to go!  
><strong>


	23. Bittersweet

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** Hey there! I apologize for the late update. Life has been kind of hectic and my connection wasn't cooperating.

Anyhow. On to this chapter! I have to admit it was my least favorite to write and revise of the entire fic. I don't believe it's _bad_ by any means, but it's one of those pieces of writing you're required to do to move the story along. It's just there to tie loose ends effectively, to make progress in the later stages of the plot.

So no, I don't hate it. I just believe I had more fun writing other chapters. Hopefully you will still find it to your liking and enjoyment!

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

* * *

><p><em>This ain't no place for no hero,<em>

_This ain't no place for no better man._

_This ain't_ _no_ _place for no hero_

_to call home._

**No Place for a Hero**

**Chapter 23 – Bittersweet**

_May 6, 8:15 AM_

_District Courthouse_

Not too long after Ned Munny had arrived to the district courthouse for his confrontation with Phoenix Wright and Apollo Justice, another murder suspect was being delivered to that same location. The name tag on her file only said "Lotta Hart".

The security detail in charge of safely surrendering the photojournalist to the courts had, in fact, been quite polite and mindful of their tone and behavior. In turn, she hadn't been that much trouble for them, outside of her boisterous demeanor. This was a wholly different story from that one guy in the uniform from before, the one who just begged to be taught a lesson. It was quite a stretch, but they could say Lotta's behavior was exemplary in comparison; even so, this wasn't a leisurely Sunday afternoon drive for anyone. This was business. Everything the security team did, from the way they sat to how they addressed her, made it perfectly clear.

Once the detention center van stopped and the purring of the engine choked to a stop, each of the guards aboard followed protocol to a T. The ones closest to the door on the back opened it and climbed down, while two others flanked Lotta and held her by the crook of her arms.

"Lower your head." one ordered, not giving her any necessary time to obey. He just pushed his hand onto the back of her head, his hand and fingers sinking into the puffy cotton that was her impossible afro. "Careful."

"Hey, you! Watch the hair!"

The men tried, but it was impossible. The inside of the truck was already cramped and the ceiling too low. There was just no way that microphone head was getting through that door intact.

"Okay, miss…" said another guard, clearly holding back his laughter. "You may want to try squatting over here on the edge of the van, and then sliding off onto the sidewalk? There's no other way we're walking you out of this car; not with your uhm… hairdo."

Lotta turned sharply, the bush on her head almost knocking the hats off the guards. That same big wad of red hair didn't let them see her annoyed face.

"You were just going to say afro, didnja? Gosh, how I hate that word! It's so… simple."

"Please, ma'am. Just do as you were instructed."

"Fine, fine! Dang."

The guards allowed themselves the blessing of a smile. They weren't just about to sympathize with this potential criminal and vouch for her in court, but at least she unwittingly made the tense, dangerous job of those four men a little less unpleasant.

Just as Lotta came down from the vehicle, three people hurried to her side with cameras and started taking really close shots of her face, sometimes going for the wide angle to try and also capture her handcuffed wrists. She immediately shielded her face and started kicking –or more like flailing her legs- at those vultures trying to profit from her public disgrace.

Then it hit her. It did while the two other guards came forward to steer those paparazzi -or whatever they happened to be- away. Being on the receiving end of this kind of treatment, after harassing others and peeking into their private lives, was ironic. Thus she had an epiphany, a desire for yet another career change.

"Ya know what? Eff it." she mumbled wistfully. "I guess I'll just take pictures of pretty flowers, for like… calendars and checkbooks."

The guard to Lotta's right coughed awkwardly. "…Ma'am?"

"Whut? Can't ya see this girl is having her heart broken by this cruel, cruel world another time? Look at the nerve in you!"

"Yeah, I guess I see that, but you're… well, leaning on my shoulder right now."

"Uh…"

"Stop it. Now."

"Yeaaaaaah, yeaaaaaaaaah!" she yelled unnecessarily, probably as some kind of way to cope with the embarrassment of having a lovey-dovey moment not just with anyone, but with one of the men trained to deal with her in case she was the dangerous type of crazy.

"Hey! Put a lid on it, girl! I could hear you all the way back to the courtroom."

Lotta made a face like the meanest villains she'd seen in her soaps.

"Why, of all the—Nick!"

Indeed. Bearing a winner's smile from ear to ear, Phoenix Wright trotted down the steps in front of the courthouse with a friend in tow. The day was bright and the sky was clear, making him and his blonde companion look like angels coming down to take pity on Lotta's poor Southern self.

The guards acknowledged the defense attorney's presence with a nod, but the second man received a more disciplined welcome. The two men who weren't busy escorting holding Lotta saluted.

"Prosecutor Gavin, it's good to see you." they all said in some shape or form.

Lotta grinned, bouncing on the tip of her toes. "Oh, you bet it is."

Klavier Gavin briefly pulled at the collar of his black shirt and smiled at the suspect.

"You must be… Frau Herze, ja?"

"Yeaaaaaaah…" Lotta kept on grinning. Then she cocked an eyebrow and finally processed what she heard. "I mean whut? Who?"

Nick smiled. "He's talking about you, Lotta."

"I done figgered," she replied, shamelessly eyeing Klavier from head to toe. "but y'said it was Edgeworth who was prosecuting my case. Not that I mind if it's my new friend here! No, sir."

"Ha ha ha! Okay. You're just being trashy now."

"Bleh!" Lotta blew a big loud raspberry at her attorney. "You don't understand what it is like when a woman is struck right through the heart!"

"Well, it's an honor to finally meet you." Klavier continued the conversation, keeping his cool like only a man with a degree on wooing women can. "I'm a friend of your attorney's, ja? He asked me to come along and await your arrival. I bet he just wants to see what kind of look you'll have on your face when you see what I have for you."

Lotta's eyes bounced back and forth, between Klavier and Phoenix. Judging by how they were handling themselves, they weren't the bearers of bad news. That much was certain. Another thing that was just as certain was that she absolutely hated surprises, particularly since the cops broke into her house with a warrant for her arrest not too long ago.

"Huh? Huh?"

"Show her, Klavier."

"A pleasure."

Klavier smirked and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. Out came a neatly folded piece of paper, bearing the emblem of the Ministry of Justice and the district courthouse bureau. Upon opening the letter and taking a deep breath the prosecutor decided -fickle as he was- that he wouldn't read it. Not word for word.

"As indicated by this document, Frau Herze, the state hereby drops all charges against you for the murder of Alice Peabody. That means you're free to go. Free! Free as the wind blows! Gratulation!"

Lotta looked at Klavier, but she didn't quite listen past the point where he said all charges had been dropped. She believed it wasn't a joke only after the handcuffs had come off. Her hands were not the only things feeling lighter. Her entire self was.

"!" she yelled at the top of her already powerful lungs, wrapping arms and legs around her attorney in a crushing, monkey-like embrace. She was moved to tears, and with good reason. "Nick! Ohmygod!"

Phoenix tried to hug back, but he wound up just wiggling his hands a little.

"Hey, now. I told you I'd get you acquitted. And you believed in me, right?"

"Of course, dummy! Of course!"

And as if to make her words truer, Lotta planted a loud smooch on Phoenix's forehead. Once she finally let go of him, her body remained unable to contain the joy she was experiencing. She kept shifting her weight from one foot to another, like a kid in a toy store.

"It was a long and difficult fight, but we've made it. Klavier here, Edgeworth, Apollo and myself, we all worked hard to deliver justice to the right people."

Lotta slowed down for a moment.

"To Alice." she added, realizing the closure she had brought to her friend's death with those words.

"That said," Nick smiled timidly, "why don't we—"

He interrupted himself, making a startled noise.

The courthouse's double doors swung open, vomiting raging chaos onto the streets. Out came a large mass of people, carrying with itself the momentum of panic and disorder. There was the flashing of cameras, the shouting of orders and a very distinctive metallic clanking. Leading the mob was a group of paramedics and one very distressed woman, drowned forever in her own personal hell.

"Ned! Dear!"

"Calm down, Mrs. Munny! –wait! Don't get near him! Let the paramedics work, dammit!"

"Make some freaking room, people! We need to give this man some breathing space. Now where the hell is that ambulance?"

"They radioed their location. They should be a couple blocks away now. Tell those guys from the detention center over there to move their van, in case our ambulance has nowhere else to park!"

Klavier had been always in the line of sight of the paramedics, so he was quicker to snap out of it and turn to face the guards who brought Lotta to the courthouse.

"You heard the doctor, friends! Get a move on!"

"Roger! In fact, we'll be going back to the detention center. Is there anything else you need? Anything we can do to help?"

"No, just get a move on!"

All of the guards rushed to their positions in the vehicle and started the engine. By the time they were driving off, the incoming ambulance was visible in the distance, its siren flashing and howling. Phoenix held Lotta's shoulders and gently pushed her aside to have a better look of the situation. He saw common and boring Ned Munny, again the epicenter of disaster, again the fulcrum upon which great tragedies were spun. The attorney also saw Apollo trying to comfort a hysterical Ahnette Munny, the woman eventually losing all color of her already pale face and vanishing in his arms.

"Nick? What's goin' on?" Lotta asked, temporarily setting aside the joy of her freedom. "Isn't that the kid that's been working for you?"

"Y-yeah…"

"—and who's that in the stretcher?"

Phoenix froze. What was he supposed to call him? Both he and Apollo had learned to dislike this man, perhaps even _hate him_ personally due to his responsibility in Ema's attempt on her life, due to his near sociopathic inability to accept his guilt and the weight of the crimes he had committed. Even if he had killed to protect the woman he loved, that didn't erase the indelible mark of his crime.

Thus the lawyer laughed bitterly. In a brief flash, he wondered if he'd be able to kill for Maya's sake. He certainly was almost willing to help acquit scum.

As far as it concerned him, Nick could tell Lotta that this was a bad man, the villain, the pig who abused Alice's trust and killed her with no regard for the consequences, that he even went so far as to put a third party in mortal danger. But then again, hard as it turned out to be, he had come to accept his crimes and the weight of murder, never justifying it as an act of love but rather accepting it as an ultimate consequence of his desperation. Ned had submitted to the strong arm of the law, so who was Phoenix to harbor any more resentment?

"Nick? Hello? Who's that in the stretcher?"

Phoenix gave his answer one last second of thought.

"He´s… He's Ned Munny."

What else was he supposed to tell Lotta? After everything that had transpired in the last twenty four hours, he didn't have a better answer. He felt he'd come up short any other way.

* * *

><p><strong>To forgo revenge, truly the trait of a man devoted in body and soul to the law!<strong>

**Next chapter: The grand finale!**

_**Do you think about me now and then?**_

_**Do you think about me now and then?**_

'_**Cause I'm coming home again.**_

_**Maybe we can start again?**_


	24. Turnabout Homecoming

**DISCLAIMER:** Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban is the property of Capcom. This is a non-profit tribute to the games we've come to love.

**A/N:** And we've reached the finale. This has to be by far the most difficult chapter I had to write for this project, as it features a rather heated confrontation between characters we've come to see as at least the best of friends. What would drive them to outright hate and resent each other? Maybe my scenario is one you'll find enjoyable.

It's been a trip, folks! Ever since I started the draft in late April, to the point I finished it in early June and later when I revised the entire thing, I had an undeniably great experience. It was motivating to see people enjoy my work and review it so positively, and likewise it was a rush to write such a dramatic story and wrap it up so nicely.

I've never considered myself a heavily artistic writer; in fact, I think "storyteller" would be a more fitting definition, as I rarely bother with things like styles and tendencies, instead focusing in carrying a story forward with characters we can relate to and care about. Thus, whenever I read your reviews, I know it was a job well done.

Strangely enough, the conclusion of this novella coincides almost with the publication of my first title, a locally distributed novel titled MUTEKI – Sendero de los Campeones (MUTEKI – Road of Champions). Maybe it'll live to be a state-wide, national or perhaps even international hit. Maybe it'll be a title only a couple local critics will remember. Who knows? What I do know is that I believe in it, and just like Phoenix and Apollo's distinct thirst for truth and justice in this fic, I intend to carry it through to the end, whether it's bitter or sweet, for it is not a race for the goal, but rather an eternal pursuit.

Lastly, I'll leave you with an original quote of mine. Hopefully, it'll help some of you fellow writers find that inner light that can sometimes elude us so.

"_Once I held a pen, I became whole.  
>Once I turned into a writer, I became infinite."<em>

-Joaquin Alberto Pineda

Please review and enjoy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it! Maybe you can expect a thrilling epilogue soon. After all, I haven't forgotten about Ema.

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><p><em>Do you think about me now and then?<em>

_Do you think about me now and then?_

'_Cause I'm coming home again._

_Maybe we can start again?_

**No Place for a Hero**

**Final Chapter – Turnabout Homecoming**

_May 6, 6:28 AM_

_Wright & Co. Law Offices_

Over time, Phoenix Wright grew tired of celebration parties for his acquitted clients, finding them not boring but in fact rather pointless. He blamed this on the impact the last seven years of trials and tribulations had in his life; then again, in spite of this, his opinion wasn't one entirely clouded by emotion. For starters, speaking for Lotta Hart's case, his client's best friend had been murdered, the man who shot her nearly died of a heart attack, and his wife would conceive a fatherless child if she didn't suffer a miscarriage first. What was there to celebrate?

Still, he put on the best smile. He had to, just for the sake of his client. He toasted with Lotta back at her favorite restaurant, joked a little, wished her good luck in the future and, in short, pretended there was nothing rotten and burnt out inside of him. It was just like in that old timey Japanese movie Nick saw by chance one lonely night: it was the warriors who lost, with the people winning through the former's sacrifice.

Now that the attorney was back at his offices to deal with some menial paperwork, there was another hurdle tossed his way, a slap right across his face courtesy of fate's mischievous hand.

There currently was a woman standing in front of his desk, her expression filled with awkward, reined happiness. She was brimming with energy, but as if to avoid ruining the moment and breaking the serenity in Phoenix's office, she began to do things with her hands: squeezing them together, popping her knuckles, pulling her fingers, rolling her wrists. Her whole demeanor was in stark contrast to her bizarre getup.

Phoenix finally thought it was a good idea to at least greet her.

"Hi."

The lady chuckled, taking a second to perhaps figure out if her next comment was appropriate.

"I… -You've already said hello, Nick."

_Dammit._

Phoenix closed his eyes, clasping his nose bridge hard between his index and thumb, clasping _very hard_. He was either fighting back tears or an urge to scream.

* * *

><p>"Wow! How did you do that?"<p>

"A little bit of magic and imagination is all it takes, my dear Pearls! I could always teach you if you become my lovely assistant, you know?"

Apollo looked across the room from his seat and laughed, entertained by Trucy's impromptu magic tricks but also by her ability to just _connect_ with people, even if they were complete strangers. In the other girl's defense, this "Pearls", she looked naturally friendly to begin with. The odd way her hair was tied and her likewise odd choice of clothes made her look like a foreigner, definitely helping in giving her that image of lovable naiveté.

"Excuse me. What did you say your name was?" the young defense attorney had to ask.

"Pearl. Pearl Fey. Nice to meet you!"

"Oh! Oh crap."

Not only did Apollo realize he had just interrupted Trucy's and Pearl's great time to make a stupid, tardy question; he had also forgotten to introduce himself at all! Red in the face, he cleared his throat and fixed his eye-patch like it was a second tie.

"I'm so sorry! Apollo! Apollo Justice. Heh. And likewise, it´s my pleasure."

Pearl bowed politely, showing a kind of regal and mature behavior that her companion, the woman talking with Phoenix in private, absolutely lacked from the looks of it. The oddest part was that she was clearly younger, probably about as old as Trucy, and yet her behavior betrayed that fact.

"Oi, Polly! Stop distracting Pearls when I'm about to show her some more sweet tricks!"

"Sorry!" Apollo scratched at the back of his head and shrunk a little. "It's just that you two are so friendly with each other that I forgot you just met."

Trucy and her new friend shared an amused look before breaking into a fit of muffled giggling. Apollo smirked and felt he was going back in time to junior high.

"You got it wrong, dummy." Trucy laughed and reached out to place her hand on top of Pearl's.

Pearl decided not to tease Apollo and explain the situation.

"We've been friends for years now. I just don't get to visit often. I come here less frequently than Mystic Maya, as a matter of fact."

"Mystic Maya?" Apollo parroted.

"Yes! The current successor to the Kurain School of Spirit Channeling." she answered with a visible degree of pride. "She's the one talking to Mr. Nick in his office right now."

Apollo was about to thank Pearl for the information when something came to his mind. The attorney left the documents he was reviewing by his side and snuck his hand into his pocket, procuring the magatama Phoenix had lent him earlier that morning. He showed it to the Kurain priestess in front of him.

"You mean…"

"Ah! That's Mystic Maya's magatama!" Pearl said, gasping a little bit. "May I see it?"

"Of course. Go ahead."

Apollo gave her the relic and watched her staring into it with a nostalgic, joyful flair in her eyes. She was no different from an adult looking at their first toy.

"There's a lot of history behind this tiny magatama, Mr. Spikey Hair."

"—Apollo. That's my name. Please try to remember it…"

Pearl ignored him –not that she meant to- and continued, sighing a little.

"It must be fate! Then I suppose Mr. Nick and Mystic Maya must've locked themselves in to get all lovey dovey." she said, covering her cheeks to hide her excitement and embarrassment.

Apollo looked at Pearl like one looks at a five legged dog. Trucy wasn't sure what to say, so she chose to shrug and smile at him.

* * *

><p>Back inside Phoenix's office, it looked like Pearl's prediction was wrong.<p>

"What are you doing here, Maya?"

Maya frowned, clearly offended by Nick's tone of questioning. He soon came to realize the rudeness of his choice of words and regretted it silently; for what it was worth, he asked again in a deliberately lighter tone.

"Sorry. I mean… What brings you here to town?"

The spirit medium and former legal assistant relaxed visibly, breathing a sigh not of relief, but of emotional exhaustion.

"I heard that Ema had been shot, so I came with Pearly to visit her at the hospital and maybe cheer her up." she explained, feeling comfortable enough to get close to Nick's desk. "Plus, I heard Lotta had been arrested, so I came to see what I could do for her too… but I see you already took care of it. Good ol' Nick, right?"

Whenever Maya smiled now, there was that spunk of hers, the spark of youth that was slowly turning into her late sister's calm and composed smirk. Her face had become rounder, her neck a bit longer and elegant and her entire frame supple, feminine. Nick could only keep thinking that God, she was so beautiful.

"Right." he answered at last, swallowing a little. She didn't want Maya to be any closer.

And almost out of sheer coincidence, Mia Fey proceeded to become the topic of conversation.

"It's been so long since you've visited sis, don't you think, Nick? I make sure to leave flowers on her gravestone back home, but I've never seen you there since… well…"

_Don't say it, please._ Phoenix closed his eyes shut and rested his chin on his hands.

"Since I left."

"I haven't had time, Maya." he answered thoughtlessly. "It's been tough all these years."

"Too tough to even thank the one person who saved your life? Too tough to go pay your respects to your mentor of all people?"

Phoenix looked away and nibbled his bottom lip.

"No."

Maya sighed again, reaching under her sleeve to nervously grasp her elbow.

"What has gotten into you, Nick? You got a client acquitted and put another killer behind bars. The old you would be toasting and celebrating, shyly thanking everyone for their support, but now…"

By this point, the medium had tried to walk around the desk to get closer to Phoenix, but he reacted by pushing his chair back with his feet and looking straight into her eyes.

"Don't do this, Maya. Please."

"Don't do what?" Maya asked with pained exasperation, failing to understand Nick's inner struggle. "The old you wouldn't sulk like this, locking himself in his office with all these blinds around and just…"

Maya was at a loss for words. All she could do was trot towards those blinds and pull them away, welcoming the sunlight into the room, as if its warm caress could give her the courage and strength to remain there with Phoenix a little longer. She was already starting to feel like simply taking off, leaving behind a river of tears and not a single word uttered.

"What happened to you, Nick?" she whispered. "You haven't been the same since I had to go all those years back!"

"You didn't have to go, Maya. _You left me._"

"Oh, please, Nick." Maya closed her eyes and cupped her cheeks. "Don't make us go through this again."

Nick would've normally given it a rest, since he wasn't one to turn a deaf ear; this time, however, he made an exception on account of the intense emotional strain he was suffering.

"Did you not leave me?" he asked, a certain vitriol plaguing his voice.

"Nick…"

"Answer my question. Please."

"…"

"Well? Did you not?"

"Yes, Nick! I left! Happy?" Maya spat in return, drawing closer to Nick. The old feeling of longing was gone. Now she wanted to get in his face, get even. "How did you expect me to stay by your side and play the kooky legal aide, after what happened at Hazakura Temple? I tried to tough it out, trust me! And we all know how short-lived that was. Or do you want me to remind you of that night where I was a blubbering, whimpering and confused mess, dragging my luggage out through that same door I just used to walk in here?"

Having let most of her frustrations out, the medium's expression softened. She felt sorry for having said those things, but that feeling exploded when she saw Phoenix furrowing his thin eyebrows into a mask of pain. Nobody needed to be reminded of what happened that time. _Nobody_.

"You convicted the man who saved my life, Phoenix! And he did that by killing my own mother, the one person I thought I could find again someday! How do you expect me to stay close to the places and the people that only remind me of it? How am I supposed to continue believing in the law and helping you after seeing what you had to do? You said it was in the name of justice, but for whom was it? Everyone came out a loser, Nick! A loser!"

Maya looked up at the sky for answers. She met only with the sight of an old ceiling fan.

"Do you know how selfish that is from your part?" she sobbed.

Phoenix couldn't bring himself to look into Maya's eyes. He knew they were full of hurt. How could she expect to share her pain when he already had a load to carry of his own? Thus, hardly infallible like any human being is expected to be, Nick made a grave mistake.

"Well, if the one you want to see is Diego," he began, checking his watch. "you know the way out. Visiting hours are about to end soon. Don't let the door hit you in the ass."

Maya whimpered like she had been physically struck, accidentally biting the inside of her mouth. She immediately closed her distance to Phoenix and struck him clean in the face with a slap. The first blow still carried doubt and regret, but the second and third did not, hitting their mark with all the venom and anger of a woman whose honor has been insulted.

"How dare you, Phoenix! How dare you!"

The attorney only flinched at the strikes while fighting the urge to protect himself. He knew he deserved this, and yet he immediately put his hands in the way when Maya tried to wail on him with solidly balled fists, figuring that both could wind up seriously hurt if she continued. It was when Nick didn't allow her to hit him anymore, when the red was gone from Maya's sight, that she started weeping only, the tears streaming down her cheeks and falling on her sleeves like heavy rain drops.

Then she took one good look at Phoenix with the clear intent of it being the last.

Phoenix immediately understood the gravity of the gesture and raced for the door, going as far as sliding over the desk to cut in front of Maya and cut off her retreat. She desperately tried to shove him away while he managed to keep a tight grip on her sleeves, sending the couple crashing onto the door. The wood of the thick frame protested and cracked, but fortunately neither was injured.

Sobbing quietly, Maya betrayed her resolve, the promise she had made herself before coming into the office not to long for this man; so did he. The medium cradled into Phoenix's arms, nuzzling his chest as both slid down to the floor to embrace in silence.

There existed something between them, not a flame, for those can be as easily extinguished as they are lit. Theirs was a light of some kind, a shining that made it clear their lives were not just intertwined, but bound together from the day Mia Fey had passed on. It was only natural that their hearts kept calling to each other, in spite of the pain, the anger and loneliness.

Maya kept crying onto the lapel of Nick's suit, the one that already smelled of the cheap vinaigrette they served at the Wunder Bar. He didn't mind.

"I love you, Maya. Don't go…"

Unable to answer properly, she instead held Nick tighter.

* * *

><p>Not too long before the banging on the door, outside of Nick's private office, Apollo was getting distracted by the noises that kept coming from the other side. It didn't help that he wasn't there to witness the entire scene, for he was only listening to the croaking of furniture and some kind of strange panting.<p>

"Uh… wow! They've been… locked up in there awfully long! Hahaha. Heh…" he finally said.

Trucy and Pearl interrupted their game of cards –with a large helping of some teenage gossip- to look at Apollo. Both were completely puzzled.

"What's wrong, Mr. Spiky Hair?"

"Polly?"

_Great_. Now Apollo felt like he was making an ass of himself, not only interrupting the girls a second time but now also trying to drag their minds into the gutter, so that at least he wouldn't be alone feeling like a complete pervert.

"Haha! Well, er… you see… yes!"

Pearly laughed politely in stark contrast to Trucy, who just held her tummy while pointing and guffawing.

"Look at you, dummy! Come on. Out with it! What is it?"

Apollo rolled his eyes nervously and lowered his voice.

"They're making a racket in there!"

Trucy matched his volume when she replied: "Yeah. So what?"

"So what?" uselessly repeated the young attorney.

All that Apollo had to do was look away and wiggle his thin eyebrows. Trucy immediately stuck out her tongue in disgust.

"Ew, Polly! That's freaking gross!"

"What?" he protested. "It's not my fault! I'm not the one… canoodling in there! Maybe we should tell them to take it somewhere else."

Trucy found this line of conversation extremely awkward, but now she wouldn't be comfortable chatting with Pearl anymore. Not until the lovebirds took off.

"Okay." she said. "You do it then. You tell them."

"Why me?"

"Ugh! Do you want me to peep on daddy?"

"Do you want me to peep on my boss?"

"What are you two going on about?" Pearl interrupted.

There needn't be a prior explanation; Pearl just wasn't getting it. What were they supposed to do? Tell her outright that Nick and Maya were in there doing the dirty? Thankfully, just as Apollo and Trucy were finding out ways to dodge that bullet (or bleach their brains), the door opened. Out came Maya and Phoenix, and they looked far from being a couple that had just engaged in vigorous passion. Their clothes were a bit messed up, sure, but it looked like both had been crying, the mystic more so in particular. Nick's eyes were definitely red.

All three youngsters immediately realized there had been some kind of a fight, but all of it was water under the bridge, for both Nick and Maya were smiling –albeit rather weakly- while trying to hold each other's hand. First they caressed each other's fingers, then their palms and finally they held each other tight.

"Mystic Maya!" Pearl immediately chimed, bouncing a bit on her seat while holding back the tears of joy.

"Relax, Pearly." said an embarrassed Maya, thumbing the remaining tears from her face. "We're… not quite there yet."

Nick averted his eyes and smirked. "There are things that need to be ironed out… but maybe this time we'll really try to make it work."

"And we may end up moving back to town, Pearly."

It was not Pearl but Trucy who expressed her enthusiasm. "Wow! Really? You heard that, Pearls?"

"Yes!"

"Now don't get your hopes up." Phoenix pointed out. "This isn't like the movies. We're still not sure what'll come of it, but we want to try and see for ourselves what happens."

Trucy ran to her father's side, slung her arms around his neck and tiptoed to kiss him on the cheek. "That's good enough to celebrate, daddy!"

Nick chuckled. "Maybe so, huh?"

Apollo stood up and cleared his throat, acting more formal and polite than usual due in no small part to the guilt of picturing his boss in such an intimate situation. "Congratulations, sir!"

Then something akin to a flash ran through Nick's mind. His smile was gone for only an instant, but it was obvious that Trucy and Apollo had caught on. With only a glint in his eye he told them it was time to sit down and talk.

Nick and Maya promised to meet at her hotel's restaurant, since that moment wasn't the most appropriate anymore to continue baring their hearts. They had been through a rollercoaster of emotions and it was evident they needed a break, although the attorney had something to do first.

"Maya?" he whispered to her.

"Yeah?"

"Can you take Pearls with you? I know she wants to stick around and hang out with Trucy, but I need to talk to her… to them. Can you do that for me?"

Maya sensed what this meant and tried to give him courage, strength to go through one of the most difficult trials in his life, one he had postponed since the day he knew Trucy and Apollo were siblings. She squeezed his hand, nodded and smiled lovingly, slowly letting go of her grasp as if meaning to make it last forever. That was their farewell for now.

When everyone else had followed suit in saying their goodbyes, Phoenix closed the door, resting his forehead on it and taking some deep breaths, something extra to help him carry on with what he was about to do.

The attorney turned around and met with a bizarre, alluring sight. As if trying to make sense of it, to make it rational and logical, he tilted his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Right across from him, Trucy and Apollo were holding each other's hand with the same kind of light Nick found renewed in Maya's big beautiful eyes, except it appeared to radiate from their entire selves.

_Of course._ After what just happened, it only made sense that they would also have the guts to try and fight their own fight, to consolidate their love in front of the most important man in their lives.

"What are you two doing?" Phoenix asked, although he managed to make his tone humorous, teasing.

Trucy's hand tightened around Apollo's when she spoke.

"Polly finally told me what happened last night, Daddy."

Although Nick lowered his head, his kind eyes remained focused on his daughter's.

"Yeah. That much I gathered."

"I'm not sure what exactly made you react like you did, but…" the magician timidly ran her fingers on the back of Apollo's hand. "I guess we believe in this too. We wanna try and make it work too. But if we have your blessing, you'd make me the happiest girl ever."

Apollo couldn't have put it better, so he limited himself to saying: "What she said."

All three shared a brief laugh.

Nick exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. He thought of Maya's tears on his suit, of Ned Munny and his mistakes, of his own snapping at Apollo. Ultimately, he realized: What the hell? A lifetime dedicated to the law had taught him that many things can be rectified, fixed. Everything can be made right, as long as one remains human and humble, aware of his faults, eager to make things right. Only death remains absolute, unchallenged. Anything else in life… who knows? Maybe it is indeed worth a shot.

"Okay. Then let's all sit down. There's something I need to tell you. You may hate me or even each other for this, but I'm ready to face the consequences now. I could have done it a long time ago, but it doesn't matter anymore. Listen…"

And for the first time since Phoenix Wright had recovered his attorney badge, he knew he was through with regrets. Even if the big city kept devouring people whole, roping them into stealing, cheating, lying, raping and killing, he knew he'd continue to protect those who couldn't defend themselves, but most of all, he knew he wouldn't succumb to anything that dared hold him down. For the sake of his friends and family, he'd keep fighting. That was the answer that made his life whole again, the answer that cleared the pain and sadness dragging him down, the end to eight years of frustration and hardships.

Even if there was indeed no place for hope, virtue and better men in this town, he'd continue his pursuit of justice, hoping that in his perhaps futile struggle someone else, perhaps better, perhaps smarter, perhaps more focused, could come along and make things right. If justice didn't become the ultimate goal of his life, he'd at least work to build a bridge towards it.

Then, as if some unexplainable force tried to highlight the moment and engrave it into his mind, a bird on a nearby window sill brought its song into the law office. Phoenix knew it was the sound of Freedom.

**No Place for a Hero**

**THE END**

**Thank you all for reading!**


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